#So I just let my heart type what it wanted to type

[catdia]

Jayce Talis with a Chubby S/o

(Modern AU / College AU)

The first time you meet was late at night. You were coming out of your physics class as he was finishing up his biomedical engineering course.

You were trying to get home when a pair of male students tried to conner you and wouldn’t let you pass. Jayce was walking out a little later than he normally did and heard all the commotion.

“Come on! It’s not like anyone is dying for your number. Just give it to me.”

“No thanks—” You pivoted to the side, and yet again blocked by other of the guys.

“What do you mean no?! It’s not like big girls like you have any options! I’m doing you a favor. I doubt that any guys want to—”

“I said NO!” They were really starting to get on your nerves. Jayce decided to step in a heartbeat.

“What do you mean no?!” He raised his hand at you, making you flinch. Jayce ran towards you, furious at the gross display of disrespect you were facing. He steeped in between the small space the guy had created in front of you.

“She said no. Now let her go on her way.” Jayce pushed the guy who raised his hand to you. Making him stumble back.

“Look at this, man—” One of the guys playfully slapped the guy who was in your face on his shoulder. “We got a hero in your hands! Pathetic.” You discretely took out your pepper spray from your pocket, turning the handle and placing your thumb on the button.

“Just leave the girl alone and we will not have anymore problems.” You stepped next to Jayce, weapon at your side. You saw one of the fuckers get close in frustration.

“And what are you going to do if—” Before the guy could finish his sentence you doused his face with pepper spray. “H-Holy fuck! You bitch!” The guy fell on his knees in pain, rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck?! I’m going to—”

Before his friend could react you did the same to him and landed a swift kick to his balls. Making his face hit the pavement below his feet as his eyes burned. Jayce was utterly stunned. A little thing like you having such violent behaviors. And he found that hot.

He felt a small hand in his palm, then a tug strong enough to make his feet shuffle. It was you trying to get him to run in what ever direction you wanted him too.

“Hurry before they get up!” You yelled at him, his feet moving as yours did. You stopped at one of the dorm buildings. Hands on your knees as you catch your breath. Jayce doing the same.

“That was fun.” He joked, earning a giggle for you. But he still could feel the sadness, the bleeding wound to your heart. He got a good look at you now. Hair messy from the run, cheeks busted pink.

“Yeah, I should get called a bitch more often if it means kicking balls in!” God, he had never seen a smile so bright, so sweet. He immediately saw your expression fall into one of sorrow. He placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, I’m sorry for what those assholes did! I’ll have them reported by tomorrow. We can’t have those type of people walking about.” You hummed a response. Those type of people have always been in your life, they could never be purged.

“You know them?” You were so soft, looking at him with your shimmering eyes. Why hasn’t he seen you before until now? Why hasn’t he noticed something so angelic like you in those damn science building hallways?

“Unfortunately, they happen to have a class with me.”There was a short silence. He looked at your sad expression. “What they said isn’t true. I-I, umm, think you’re quite pretty—” You looked surprised. You have never seen a pair of amber eyes so genuine before. Could this be what wanting someone a felt like? Did it look like the most handsome man in school standing in front of you looking at your lips?

“Thank you, Jayce.” You stood on your tippy toes and gave him a kiss, intended for his cheek but your lips fell on the outline of his jaw. “Bye bye.” The electric door opened with the touch of your keycard and you entered.

“Wait! Who do you know my name?” You peaked out the half closed door, smile in your lips.

“Your face is all over the place.” You pointed to your temple. “And I have a mug with you on it.” You closed the door. Leaving Jayce awestruck as his cheeks burned with passion.

Since you guys have the same schedule at night he is the one that walks you home, and you became a couple shortly after. He made sure to have a word with the dean and the two guys who harassed you were kicked out.

When he was first trying to court you he always brought you coffee to your am classes. The first time he did it was the most rememberable one because everyone was so shocked to see him walking up to you and giving you your breakfast! You sitting next to your lab partner and friend Sevika as she told you the gossip she heard in rugby practice. And you ended up confessing to her want happened the other night.

“You should have called me to pick you up!”

“Sev, I’m fine! They got kicked out this morning and are banned even from the arenas.”

“I don’t give a fuck about that. I can’t believe you had to experience that alone. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“I was okay. And I wasn’t alone actually. This guy—” Before you could finish your sentence a shadow crossed over you. And it was none other than the golden boy himself! You stood up from your desk a little too excitedly. Making Sevika scuff at you. You leaned against the corner of the table and propped your hip in your hand.

“Hey, Jayce! Are you going to be TAing or something?” You really regret not doing your hair this morning!

“Na, Heimer just was fussy about some of the numbers we crunched yesterday and want me to come early to do a final run over.” You noticed that he had food in his hands, untouched and unopened. He saw your gaze look at his hands.

“Ahh, this is for you!” He handed you an iced coffee and what looked like a pastry in a brown bag. You knew from the logo that it was from that expensive coffee shop that opened a few months ago on campus. And the heart attack that it gave you when the cashier told you in was 10 bucks for a small matcha.

“Is the coffee poisoned?” You joked, eyeing the color of the coffee. You knew it was going to be delicious.

“No, no, no! Heavens no!” He quickly shook his hands out of anxiety and looked baffled you suggested such things. He had a blush on his cheeks, a boyish look for such a large man.

“I thought it would be nice to bring you something. Y-You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to. I totally understand if you don’t want to take something for a complete stranger—”

“That’s very sweet, Jayce. Thank you.” 

“No problem.”

“Can I give you a kiss on the cheek?”

“Really?!” You nodded your head at his excitement. “Sure!” He leaned down to your level so you didn’t have to grab a chair just to reach his neck. You placed a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble of his skin. Your lips and contact with the fresh smelling skin. He placed a hand on yours as you slowly back away from him.

“I’ll be in the library this afternoon in room 314, at about 3. Would you like to join me?” He gently squeezed your hand.

“Yeah! I’m free and I have that damned electrical current paper I have to finish. I’ll be there around 4.”

“Good!” He seemed like he really didn’t want to let you go. But he slowly walked away from you.

“Bye bye.” Jayce waited as he exited the door.

“Bye, Mr. Talis.” You blew him a kiss, he rose his hand and catch the kiss placing it next to his heart. Watching him stumble out the door as he bumped into other guy trying to walk in.

“You really have him hooked, huh?” Sevika chuckled as she popped open the brown bag to see the contents inside. “I bet 40 that he is going to beat his meat with that hand later.”

“I seriously don’t know what he sees in me. Did you know he broke up with Mel Medarda?” You leaned against the lab desk and crossed your arms. Still looking at the door Jayce entered and left moments ago. “She’s gorgeous! Makes me feel like a peasant each time I she her in her brand new BMW. And those cuffs in her locs have to be 18k gold! And did you see her latest Insta post?! She’s got body for days!”

“Looks like you have a crush on her.”

“Don’t we all?”

“I knew that you would finally start gunning for the other team. My influence is infectious.” You chuckled at her, still deep in thought as some students took their seats as class time started to approach.

“You really have to start getting out of your head, princess. Do you think he would be doing this lovey-dovey shit if he didn’t want a piece of that ass?”

“Mmm, yeah maybe you’re right—”

“And if he doesn’t work out for you I have plenty of butches that have been asking me about you. The good thing is that you can pick out the dick size.”

“Ewww! That’s so crude, Sevika!”

You heard a crunch and turned your head to Sevika. “Are you serious eating my stuff?”

“Checking it for roofies.” She bit the flaky pastry again and took a sip of your latte. Moaning at the taste as she gave it a final swirl. Passing it to you.“You have my green light.” You rolled your eyes at her.

“Oh, shit! He left his number on the pastry bag!”

He is the captain of the baseball team and also the golden boy of the engineering department. His face is plastered all over the school and even in the promotional stuff of the college.

Hispanic / Latino! A Colombian-Brazilian mix.

His sponsor is the Kiramman family, he won a scholarship in middle school for a Juniors Inventors Competition he placed first. They have paid for his education ever since because they loved him so much. And helps Cait with all her homework and tutoring. They also are members of the board of education (cough nepotism cough).

Your first date was at a basketball game. His friend Vi was playing in the national women’s tournament that was taking place at your college’s arena. Imagine you are relaxing and enjoying the game as the Jumbotron is going around focusing on couples for the kiss cam. And it lands on you two!

“I guess we have to give the people what they want.”

“How unfortunate for us.” You leaned into Jayce, grazing your lips against his.

You guys share a passionate kiss as the crowd went wild. Later you saw your picture in the schools newspaper talking about the game and the “New Golden Boy’s Gal”.

His favorite pet names for you are babe, baby, dove, and princess! When he gets spicy uses “muñeca” (doll) and “mi tesoro” (my treasure).

Doesn’t seem like a party person at all! He went to a few in his first year but didn’t like the craziness of them. He does however go to fundraising galas and any event that the school of engineering / baseball does.

And you are his plus one always!

Likes to be in suits and all dolled up, Jayce likes to look good. He knows his handsome, but he doesn’t compete next to you. Having your curves hugged so nicely by the gown you’re wearing, hair and makeup done.

“Are you ready, Jayce? If we are not there by 7 Professor Heimerdinger will have my ass.” You entered his room, heels clicking. He pulled his tie around his neck and he saw you in the reflection of his small mirror.

“You look stunning!” He shifted his attention to you. Watching you struggle to put your necklace on he quickly took the chain from your fingers.

“I don’t feel stunning—” He clipped the necklace. Kissing the nape of your neck.

“Jayce, we will be late!” He unzipped the back of your dress, earning a yelp from you. His cold hands slipping under the fabric and grasping the meat of your hips and stomach.

“They can wait! You are more important than so old farts with money to spare.” Your dress pooled on your feet.

Wouldn’t it be awkward having Mel as his ex like a mentioned previously?! And she being the face of the school of engineering like Jayce?! They only dated because it was pushed on them by the department because having a “power couple” as the face of the college meant big money.

I believe that their relationship never was more than occasional sex and a little toxic. She 100% dated Jayce because Ambessa told her too. Mel only cared about him when it came to the aesthetics of it all. Made him follow a script all the time in public. He couldn’t smile too much, couldn’t giggle because it was uncouth, changed his diet because according to her he was still “flabby” even with the constant work he put in… Mel manipulated the hell out of him, and she was damn good at it. She made him feel trapped and loved at the same time. It wasn’t a very healthy relationship.

Viktor never really liked Mel so when she broke with him he was the happiest man alive! He was like “yeah I hated that bitch” and Jayce was just crying his eyes out because he was dumped before his game.

I think Mel dumped him because he was tired of not being himself anymore. He didn’t find joy in the little things and he stared to tell her “no” when it came to her shifting his whole personality.

She had a wake up call a few more years into college and even broke of her relationship with her mother. Mel eventually apologized to Jayce for all the pain she caused him.

When Jayce introduced you to Viktor you both hit it off right away! He said something in the line of: “I like this one, keep her around.”

I headcanon Jayce as bisexual, but isn’t the type to parade it around or even mention it to people. Doesn’t own any pride stuff. Very closeted, but not at all (if you get way I mean). Jayce is just comfortable with himself and doesn’t need to prove anything to others when it comes to his sexuality. He only tells people when it naturally comes in a conversation.

The only person he flat out said “yeah I’m bi” was when Cait came out to him. He wanted her not to feel alone and that she had a friend she could relay on.

The way you found out he was bi was so mundane. You were talking about a popular actor that was in a lot of action movies back when you were kids.

“Since I was a teenager all the other guys said that he was cool, but I only really liked him because he was hot.”

“Wait! You like boys and girls?”

“Y-Yeah—” He sheepishly placed a hand on the back of his neck, blush on his cheeks. And that quickly turned into a form of panic. What if you were disappointed, or even disgusted by that? Will you break up with him over it? “If you don’t feel comfortable with that I totally understand—”

“I like girls too! And boys!” You both held hands and skipped in a circle out of bi joy.

He always kisses you hello and goodbye! He likes PDA but isn’t the type to be literally fucking you in public. He holds your hand and gives you gentle kisses. Also whenever you go out he makes sure to walk on the side of traffic. And makes you stand close to his chest when you’re in line.

I belive that the college you go to is close to his home, and his mom comes over on the weekends to his dorm. Brings treats over and cooks for Viktor and Jayce to last them the week. Very mama bear

The first time Ximena saw you was in early Saturday morning. You stayed over after finishing a project, it was too late to go back to your dorm and you slept over. You woke up to the smell of coffee. Jayce still sleeping at your side like a rock. You dragged yourself out of bed in one of Jayce’s big t-shirts and some fuzzy socks he bought for you.

“Oh! Who is this pretty girl?!” You heard a kind voice express. You saw a tall and gorgeous woman cooking at the stove. From the pictures Jayce showed you it was Ximena Talis, his mom!

Viktor was sitting in the counter stuffing his face with pancakes. “That’s Jayce’s girlfriend, Mrs. Talis.”

“My Jayce has a girlfriend!”

She made her way to you drying her wet hands on her apron. She gave you the biggest hug and you giggled at her boldness.

“I’m Ximena Talis, Jayce’s mom! But you can call me Ximena.” She cupped your face in her hands and gave your cheeks a squeeze. Looking over your features lovingly then stepping away slightly to look at the rest of you.

“You’re a cutie! ¡Y mira esas curvas que tienes! (And look at your curves!)”

She placed her palms on your wide hips, and felt them over her son’s shirt.

“Wow, okay—” You heard Viktor choke on his coffee.

“Mom! What are you doing? That’s embarrassing!” Jayce was beyond frustrated of his mom’s actions. 

“Jayce Antony Talis! When were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend?!

“We only started dating a few months ago and—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Jayce! Come here my dear! Let’s get you some breakfast before he lets you go hungry.” She dragged you back to the stove and hugged you by the shoulders. And it was the most delicious hug you’ve had in a while.

“Mamá, don’t suffocate her please!” Jayce took a seat next to Viktor that was silently recording this shit show for his private Snapchat stories.

“Oh, shush! So do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in your pancakes?” She petted your cheek lovingly.

“Can I have both?” You asked with puppy eyes.

“You are just like my Jayce!” Her eyes twinkled as she prepared a plethora of pancakes for all of you.

In Arcane, the Talis house is know for their toolmaking. In this Modern AU his family owns a small chain of workshops and supply stores. They specialize in welding and power-tools.

He brings you all the time to his families original workshop and makes steel flowers and trinkets for you.

Has a full skin care routine. One for day time and night time. Does face masks a few times a week for hydration and sun protection because of baseball practice. Always wears sunscreen! And applies multiple times a day.

Also loves smelling good for you. He was a pretty nice selection of perfumes. Jayce seems to be more inclined to sweeter and less overpowering types of smells. Doesn’t like to have the type of cologne that literally envelopes the room in a smoky way. Likes perfumes that blend well and you have to stand close to have a good whiff.

His a big boy! And eats a lot to keep up with his hours of exercise and studying. Totally the kind of guy that downed all his meal points and is left eating leftovers in the final semester months.

Jayce will literally lick the plate clean with whatever you cook. Buys you all the ingredients before hand like a gentleman. Once ate a whole batch of brownies you made and you were utterly disgusted by him.

“Jayce, I may be a fat ass but I will never pull this shit. This is inhumane and worrisome.”

“But they were so good. I couldn’t resist!” He wiped the crumbs off his face and sucks his fingers clean.

“Good enough that you didn’t let me have at least one?!”

You guys also like to try out new recipes together. And by try I mean Jayce burning his share and you ordering food after his disaster in the kitchen.

Since becoming partners you spend a lot of time in their dorm and each one of you takes turns making a fresh batch of cookies for the week. Viktor is a master baker, so when it’s his turn to make cookies they are gone before the end of the week. Jayce is an ass and just buys Oreos, gaslights Viktor and you into thinking they’re “gourmet” or some shit.

Viktor is his keeper. If you want to do anything with Jayce you need to ask Viktor for permission.

“Can I have him for tonight, Vicky?”

“Absolutely not! We have Great British Bake Off tonight. Who is going to help me rank the dishes from worst to best if he is not here?”

“Every time it feels like I’m in the 1800 asking for a hand in marriage even though I just want to go get ice cream with Jayce!” You groaned at Viktor’s response.

“Ice cream? I will allow it if you get me a scoop of strawberry.”

“Thank you great king Viktor! Your prince will be moderately safe in my hands.” You bowed your head like a knight in a castle asking for the princess hand.

Jayce is a total cuddle bug! His favorite spot to snuggle up is the couch. Likes having your back pressed against his chest with your legs tangled with his while playing video games or watching movies. Jayce is the little spoon all the way when you’re in his bed. Likes his hair to be played with while he has his head on your chest.

He wears hoochie daddy shorts! Those super tiny shorts were you can see his boxers peaking out the legs. You love how they make his thick thighs and ass look plump and juicy.

“I told you not to wear these in public.” You disrespectfully grabbed his ass. Enjoying the fullness in your palms. “You know what that ass does to me. Makes me want to hump you!” You proceeded to hump his leg and bark at the same time.

“Babe, stop! We are in public for Gods sake!” Jayce pushed on your shoulders trying to get you off his leg.

“Then you shouldn’t be asking for it!”

He traces your stretch marks when you are alone together in bed! The ones on your belly are so especial to him. His hands are big and warm and they feel so good on the fresh ones you get.

He also has stretch marks! Mainly on his arms and glutes. You call them his tiger stripes.

Grows out his beard and hair after his second year. His work load tripled and doesn’t have much time to trim them. You absolutely love his new look!

“Kissing you feels like eating a carpet! I love it.”

“You’re sure a weirdo, babe!”

You always make time to go to his baseball games. He throws you kisses and winks before each batting section as a form of good luck. Jayce is an amazing hit, and always starts and finishes with a breathtaking home run.

He looks incredible in his white and blue uniform. And that ass of his looks delightfully plump in his dirty white jeans. You always bring binoculars to just stare at him instead of watching the game.

Got badly injured in game because one guy of the opposite team kicked his knee in while touching base. His injury was so severe that he was recommended to quit it all together and has to wear a knee brace for the rest of his life.

Started getting bad scores and even was about to loose his sponsorship because of his mental health after the incident. Started drinking shortly after to quell the pain. He completely spiraled out of control.

“I-I don’t know how I am anymore. I’ve failed. I’ve failed. I’m worthless.” He came to your dorm room late one night. He had been drinking enough that his true emotions started swallowing him up.

“Jayce, don’t say that—” He launched into your arms, shaking in hurt as his tears stained your top “If you were all those things you said then you wouldn’t have all these people backing you up. You are loved Jayce. I love you.”

“Then why do I feel like this? Like I want everything to burn and collapse?”

“Because it’s unfair what you are going through. So cry and breakdown all you want. I’ll be here to dry your tears and help you stand.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“No problem, baby.”

Jayce has always suffered from depression and suicidal thoughts since the passing of his father. So you felt like you would have lost him of it wasn’t for the support you guys gave him. Viktor with his crazy science hypothesis and projects. And you with your emotional support.

“If you ever want to talk I’m right here, Jayce. And if you don’t want to talk, then let me be the shoulder you can cry on.”

“Only if you promise me to help me get my chemistry grade up.”

“I wouldn’t say no even if the world burned down.”

He started becoming his self again, getting amazing grades and taking care of himself. Saving his beared and cutting his hair (noooooo).

Jayce seems like the guy that likes to keep busy, so since he doesn’t have any sports to keep him hands on he takes up more artsy activities. Since he is familiar working with metal, Jayce starts doing woodwork and pottery.

You introduced him to pottery when you surprised him with a couples class to make matching mugs. You have never seen him smile like that since the injury! The mug you molded looked like a kindergartener made it but Jayce liked it so much that it’s his number 1 coffee cup.

The pottery class impacted him so much that he bought all the materials online and started his own little studio. Gives out all his little creations to his friends. Heimer even has a pencil holder in his office that Jayce made him.

Jayce is the only one of your friend group how has a car, it’s an old beat up red Toyota Corola with one of the doors colored blue. That car was where Cait and Vi first had their kiss after Jayce picked them up drunk from a party. The car takes seconds to start and everyone cheers when the engine runs. You and Jayce go every other weekend to the beach that is a few minutes from campus and have a picnic. Is the car where Viktor fell out the window because Jayce was doing donuts in the Burger King parking lot and he was sitting on the window opening.

Your favorite thing to do is going midnight snack runs! Almost 1 in the morning and you hear a knock on your door and there is Jayce in his pajamas. Shaking his keys in his fingers.

“You want some McDonald’s?”

“Let me put my bra on.”

You also go grocery shopping together. And Viktor tags along sitting inside of shopping cart.

Let’s you decorate his knee brace with cute stickers! I mentioned in my Viktor headcanons that Jayce likes Sanrio characters, especially Pompompurin. So if you have any Sanrio stickers he wants them on his brace.

Jayce likes to collect miniature things. And is very into Japanese / Asian culture. He was totally a Pokémon and Gundam kid when growing up. Still has all his old figurines and has some in his dorm room.

Jayce was raised by a single mom almost his whole life, so he was into some very “girly” things at a young age. Likes to bake (even if everything he cooks turns out a little burnt) and garden, going shopping and keeping up with his hygiene. He never had a “boy smelling room”. Imagine him going to another boy’s dorm for a group project and him being utterly disgusted by the man smell.

Since then he keeps to his own, and ever goes to another’s dorm room except yours and Cait’s.

He runs a tight ship and does all in his power to keep everything clean. Viktor is a little on the messier side than Jayce. They get into petty arguments all the time thanks to one of Jayce’s house rules.

“Viktor you aren’t supposed to put wooden kitchens utensils in the washing machine! And what did I tell you about not taking out the potatoes out of the plastic? They will get bad quicker!” He was like a desperate house wife. You and Viktor were playing video games when he just went off ranting.

“Jayce, I want a divorce.” You slapped Viktor’s shoulder and crackled at Jayce’s flustered face.

“I’m not going to let you!”

He doesn’t like the cold at all. He and his mom got into a bad car accident in a snow storm and it took a rescue team almost 4 hours to get them out of the freezing cold. He got bad hypothermia and his mom lost her fingers.

“Jayce if you make me put another sweater on you will have to roll me out to get me to class.”

“Then you shouldn’t have put only one on. You were trying to be sneaky.”

“I have a nice layer a fat on me! If I put too much clothes on I’ll suffocate!”

“I don’t care! I just want my lady to be warm. Now which one do you want? Blue or black?”

“Jesus, help me so I don’t suffer from a heat stroke in December—”

His favorite part of your body is your hips, how plush and soft they fit in his hands. Loves to hold your hips when he hugs you and when you’re walking beside him. Jayce goes crazy for your tummy / muffin top. When you sit down his eyes immediately go to your middle. And if you wear a short body-con skirt that highlights the crest of your belly he will go feral and all gushy.

And if you have wide shoulders consider this man whipped. He finds women with strong shoulders incredibly sexy. Jayce also has big shoulders and it feels like he has something in common with you. Likes to give you hand massages on them. Calls you his “tough lady”.

I like to think that Jayce grew up more on the chubby side and was teased for it. And then he had an amazing glow up. Because Jayce has too much personality for a tall, handsome man! And he would have been such a cutie as a baby too! Really big and chunky, and also super long.

Ximena brought his baby pictures over one time and you saw that he had a massive head. You teased him over it and now he gets embarrassed when you bring it up.

When you get angry or sassy at him Jayce gets very sad! Like a kicked pup. He just stands in front of you with glossy eyes and a quivering lip. You don’t stay mad at him for long.

Even with his knee injury Jayce is very athletic. He likes doing handstands and cartwheels to impress you. He likes to annoy you and do walking handstands. Likes follow you around with his legs in the air and hands on the ground as you do chores.

“Is this your mating dance, Jaybe?”

“Is it working?”

“Ehh, you’re getting there. Get me the extra dish soap from the pantry and maybe I’ll take my pants off.”

“On it!” And you saw him scurry off still in his handstand before you could say anything else. He will have a massive headache later.

Since you started dating Jayce you also got adopted by his friends group. And you have girls night with Cait, Vi, and Sevika. Which means you and Cait sitting on the couch with face masks on drinking margaritas while Sevika and Vi beat the hell out of each other with their boxing gloves. Jayce and Viktor try to bribe the girls with snacks, it always works.

“Boys, get out it’s girls night!”

“But we want to watch Legally Blonde and get our toes painted!” Jayce pushed the door as Cait put all her weight on it.

“We order pizza.” Viktor yelled on the other side.

Vi gasped. “Cupcake, let them in!”

“What the hell! I’m also painting your finger nails as retribution.” You patted the empty space next you on the sofa and Viktor sat down. You pulled out the box of nail polish. “What color, V?”

“I want mine in purple.”

“Blue for me, babe!” Jayce sat on the ground between your legs, resting his back on the sofa cushions.”

Definitely steals your clothes! He will go through your closet in front of you with no shame and pick out want ever he likes. He makes sure to leave some of his fresh laundry so you can wear his stuff too.

If you ever heard of “Walk a Mile in Her Shoes” is a foundation / fundraiser for women who have suffered from various types of abuse. And they have an anual walk where people, mostly men, walk in heels for a mile to show their support for the women in their life. And he participates every year and you cheer him on!

It would be so fun if Sevika and Vi walked with him! And they all are trying to support each others balance but Vi keeps twisting her ankle every so often, so both Sevika and Jayce have one of her arms around their shoulders as they carry and drag her feet off the ground.

“You’re doing amazing, sweetie!” You yelled as you watched them struggle to get to the finish line.

“I think I don’t want my rights anymore!” Sevika ran bow legged as she passed you. Jayce hiding his pain with a forced smile.

They decided to make a run for it to finish first and it ended up with Sevika’s lip busted, Vi with a bruised foot and Jayce with his hands and knees all scraped.

Jayce overall is such an amazing person! Complex and utterly devoted to you. He makes you dream of an endless future with positivity and love.

[fangdokja]

Some truths are better left buried.

❤︎ Synopsis. A charming façade hides a mind unraveling, as jealousy sinks its claws into a man obsessed with the untouchable "Ice Queen," her mysterious past igniting a sinister need to claim what was never his to own.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend x Reader

♡ Novella. Friction & Fire - Part 2

♡ Word Count. 8,000

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances

♡ A/N. Not me only realizing recently that this was a FINISHED work that I never posted. My drafts in Tumblr are a mess I tell you. It's like the various requests, fandoms, and works in general are mixing wahaha. YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE???? It's like I'm universe hopping in the multiverse, going to different fandoms and worlds to bring the content you all want. And, just like someone with multiple jobs and side hustles; if it's not recorded or arranged right, it gets lost to the void I tell you. wahhhhh

The office was silent except for the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard and the faint hum of the air conditioning. The morning sun bled through the blinds in fractured slivers, painting your desk in a dull, sterile glow. You sat across from him, your shoulders squared, your focus unyielding as you combed through line after line of data.

And yet, despite the quiet, he could feel the tension lingering between you like a living thing.

It was still on his mind.

He wasn’t the type to fixate—hell, he prided himself on letting things roll off his back—but this? The thought of your first kiss, of the strange, detached way you spoke about it last night, had lodged itself in his brain like a splinter.

He leaned back in his chair, one leg lazily draped over the other as he watched you with sharp, predatory focus. On the surface, he looked relaxed, his usual cocky nonchalance on full display. But beneath it, his mind was a storm.

“You know,” he began, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife, “last night got me thinking.”

You didn’t respond, didn’t even look up. Your fingers danced across the keys, swift and precise, as though you hadn’t heard him at all.

He smiled, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on the table. “For someone who’s so good at everything, you sure don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

Still, you gave him nothing. Not a word. Not a glance.

He didn’t let it deter him. If anything, your silence only spurred him on.

“So, first kiss,” he said, his tone as light as a feather, casual enough to sound innocent. “When was it? And don’t give me that ‘transaction’ excuse. I want details.”

Your fingers paused for half a second—so brief it was barely noticeable—but it was enough to make his grin widen.

“I’m working,” you said flatly, your voice like steel.

“And I’m curious,” he shot back smoothly, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “Come on, indulge me a little. Was it some rich heir your parents set you up with? Or…” He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Was it someone you actually liked?”

You exhaled slowly, your gaze still fixed on your screen. “Drop it.”

“Oh, I would,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more insidious tone. “But it’s kind of hard to stop wondering when you’re so damn mysterious about everything. I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for state secrets here. Just a name. Or a story. Something.”

Your fingers hit the keys a little harder now, your movements growing sharper, but you still refused to look at him.

He leaned back again, tapping his pen idly against the table, his expression deceptively calm. “Okay, fine. Let’s broaden the topic. Ever had any other boyfriends? Or am I the only one lucky enough to deal with your charming personality?”

The sarcasm in his tone was sharp, but it wasn’t enough to mask the strange, simmering edge beneath it.

“Work,” you said simply, not bothering to look at him.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” He leaned forward again, his voice growing louder, though his grin remained firmly in place. “You’re like a damn iron wall. It’s impressive, really. But also kind of annoying.”

You finally paused, your hands hovering above the keyboard as you turned to meet his gaze. Your expression was calm, cold, and utterly unreadable. “If I don’t answer,” you said, your voice low and measured, “will you stop asking?”

“Not a chance,” he said, his grin widening into something wolfish.

You sighed, turning back to your screen. “Then keep asking. It won’t change anything.”

He let out a soft laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something else there now, something darker and more insistent, coiling tightly in his chest.

He didn’t know why this mattered so much. Why the thought of someone else—someone before him—made his jaw clench and his stomach churn. But the idea wouldn’t let him go.

“Fair enough,” he said finally, his voice dropping into a softer, almost dangerous tone. “But don’t think I’m letting this go. Sooner or later, princess, I’ll get you to crack.”

Your silence was answer enough. But the faint flicker of annoyance in your eyes as you typed? That was all the encouragement he needed.

———

The late afternoon sun filtered through the office windows, casting long, golden streaks across the sterile desks. Papers and coffee cups littered the space, evidence of a day stretched too long. You sat at your desk, immersed in another report, your brow furrowed in concentration. The tension that had gripped you for days had finally loosened, and though your posture remained rigid, there was an air of calm about you now.

It was a calm he intended to disrupt.

He stretched lazily from his chair, a satisfied smirk curling his lips as he sauntered over to your side. His steps were slow, deliberate, the kind of gait that was both casual and predatory. Leaning down just slightly, he peered over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

"Still working, huh? You're really setting a new standard for the term 'workaholic.' Should I be worried you're cheating on me with a spreadsheet?" His voice was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something sharper beneath it.

You didn’t even glance his way. "Your jokes are terrible."

"Terrible? Wow, you wound me," he said, clutching at his chest as if your words had pierced his heart. But his grin didn’t waver. Instead, he slid closer, resting a hand casually on the back of your chair. "Seriously, though. You’re in a much better mood now. My charm’s working, isn’t it?"

"Or maybe I’m just ignoring you," you replied dryly, typing without pause.

He chuckled, his laughter rich and low. "Ignoring me? Oh, sweetheart, if you were ignoring me, you wouldn’t have responded at all."

You sighed, still refusing to meet his gaze. He watched you intently, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, the subtle movements of your lips as you murmured something under your breath. For a moment, he was silent, caught in the strange, unfamiliar pull of wanting to touch you—not for show, not as part of this ridiculous transactional arrangement, but because he wanted to feel the solidity of you beneath his hands.

So, he acted.

Before you could react, his arms were around you, pulling you into a firm, almost possessive embrace. He buried his face against your hair, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture that was disarmingly tender.

You stiffened but didn’t pull away. Not yet.

"Not in public," you said flatly, your tone devoid of emotion.

He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "We’re in an office. No one’s here but us. Doesn’t count."

You sighed, finally turning your head just enough to give him a withering look. "Still. Stop."

"Stop what?" he teased, his grin widening. He tilted his head, pressing his lips to your cheek in a playful kiss, lingering just enough to make your expression harden. "I’m just fulfilling my boyfriend duties. What, you don’t want me to be affectionate?"

"This isn’t affection. It’s a distraction," you retorted, your voice sharp but your body strangely still in his hold.

"Oh, so you do know what affection is. I was beginning to think you were allergic to it," he quipped, his arms tightening slightly as if daring you to push him away.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

His gaze drifted down to your lips again, unbidden memories of last night creeping into his mind. The way you’d slapped him, the way you’d rubbed at your mouth as if scrubbing him off—it had stung. More than he wanted to admit. And then you’d dropped that bomb about it not being your first kiss. That knowledge sat heavy in his chest now, simmering with something dark and ugly.

Jealousy.

He hated the word, hated the feeling even more. But there it was, coiled tight around his thoughts, tainting everything.

"Hey," he said suddenly, his voice softer, almost coaxing. "You never did tell me about your first kiss."

"Drop it," you said firmly, shifting in his hold.

"Come on," he pressed, his tone still light but his grip on you unyielding. "It’s not like I’m going to judge. I’m just… curious."

"I said drop it." This time, your voice had an edge to it, and you finally moved to shrug him off.

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression carefully masked with that infuriating grin. "Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. For now."

You narrowed your eyes at him but said nothing, turning back to your work.

Still, his hands lingered, his fingers brushing over your arm in a way that felt deliberate. He smiled to himself, his mind churning with thoughts he didn’t want to dissect too closely.

Transactional or not, he was still your boyfriend. Your first boyfriend. The only one you had now.

And that? That was enough. For now.

────────────

The garage hummed with a low din: the scrape of pool cues against felt, the occasional clink of beer bottles, and the raucous laughter of his friends echoing off the cement walls. The air reeked of oil, sweat, and cheap cologne, a heady cocktail that somehow felt like home. He leaned against the pool table, a cue stick balanced lazily in one hand as his gaze drifted—unfocused, distant, and entirely unlike him.

“You good, man?” One of the guys leaned in, squinting at him. “You’ve been off all night. Usually, you’re the one running your mouth the loudest. What gives?”

He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and a lazy grin slid across his face. “What? I’m just letting you losers have your moment. Can’t have me wiping the floor with you every game.”

The group laughed, though the scrutiny didn’t ease. Someone else chimed in, gesturing toward him with a beer bottle. “Nah, nah, there’s something going on. You’ve been staring off into space like you’re in some indie movie montage. What’s eating you?”

He rolled his eyes, straightening up and spinning the cue stick in his hand. “Nothing’s eating me. You guys are just too boring to hold my attention.”

The teasing jabs came quick after that, each more ridiculous than the last. “Oh, I know what it is,” one of the guys said, smirking. “It’s that ice queen of his. What’s her name again? Miss ‘I’m too good for this world’?”

A chorus of laughter erupted, and he smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You mean my girlfriend?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, you wish you could land someone like her. Don’t be jealous just ’cause I’ve got taste.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” Another guy leaned in, grinning. “Man, you’ve never been serious about anyone in your life. What’s the deal? She finally melt that big ‘I don’t care about anything’ heart of yours?”

He snorted, the sound sharp and dismissive. “As if. It’s a transactional thing, remember? Don’t go reading any Nicholas Sparks nonsense into it.” He paused, spinning the cue stick once more before adding, almost offhandedly, “Though she did mention something interesting.”

That got their attention. “Oh?” one of them said, his tone dripping with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“She’s got a past,” he said, feigning nonchalance. “Romantic history or whatever.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before the room erupted into laughter again.

“Her? No way!” one of them wheezed, slapping his knee. “You’re telling me the Ice Queen actually let someone get close to her? Hell, I thought she’d freeze anyone who tried.”

“Right? She barely tolerates him,” another joked, pointing at him with a pool cue. “And he’s the boyfriend! Can you imagine anyone else even standing a chance?”

He shrugged, the grin on his face sharp and self-assured, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “Hey, I’m just as shocked as you guys. But yeah, apparently she’s kissed someone before. Wild, right?”

“Pfft, no way,” someone scoffed. “She’s probably messing with you. Bet she said it just to get under your skin.”

“Yeah, no offense, but she doesn’t exactly scream ‘romantic whirlwind.’ What, did she date a robot?”

The laughter rolled on, but he didn’t join in. Instead, he leaned back against the pool table, his grip tightening on the cue stick. He kept his expression light, easygoing, but inside, something coiled tighter and tighter, a venomous knot of jealousy and something he couldn’t quite name.

“Maybe she did,” he said finally, his voice smooth but edged with something razor-thin. “Or maybe she just has good taste and doesn’t fall for losers like you.”

The guys hooted and hollered, taking his words as another well-timed joke, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, his mind lingered on the thought of her—her cool, distant demeanor, the way she brushed him off like he was nothing. And yet… someone else had touched her first.

The idea churned in his gut, hot and nauseating.

Transactional or not, she was his now. Wasn’t she?

———

The laughter around him ebbed and flowed, but it barely registered. He leaned against the edge of the pool table, staring blankly at the neon beer sign on the wall. The buzz of their voices blurred into a distant hum, and his mind gnawed at the frayed edges of the conversation like a dog with a bone.

“Yo, you’re spacing out again,” one of the guys said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “What’s the deal, man? You look like someone ran over your dog.”

He smirked, forcing himself back into the moment. “Please, like I’d ever let that happen. You guys know me—cool as a cucumber.”

“Cucumber, my ass,” someone quipped. “You’ve been weird ever since you brought up her romantic history. What’s the matter, hotshot? Jealous someone else got to her first?”

The words hit like a sucker punch. Jealous? Him? Of course not. He was the picture of casual detachment, the poster boy for not giving a damn. It wasn’t like they were in love. The relationship was an agreement, a mutually beneficial arrangement. It wasn’t supposed to be messy. It wasn’t supposed to matter.

But it did.

“Jealous? Me?” He barked out a laugh, the sound a little too sharp. “C’mon, you think I care about some guy who’s probably ancient history? If anything, I’m curious. What kind of guy would even catch her eye? She’s not exactly handing out free passes.”

“Curious, huh?” One of the guys grinned, leaning against his pool cue. “Sure, let’s call it that. I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever been the possessive type.”

The comment was met with a wave of snickers, and he rolled his eyes, his grin widening. “Exactly. I’m chill. Relaxed. Totally unbothered.” He emphasized the last word, slapping the pool table for effect, but the laughter around him only grew louder.

“Yeah, sure you are,” another guy chimed in, taking a swig from his beer. “That’s why you’ve been stewing over this for, what, ten minutes now?”

He forced another laugh, but inside, the knot in his chest tightened. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t like him. He’d had plenty of relationships—flings, hookups, even a couple that could loosely be called serious—and he’d never felt like this. Never felt this gnawing, restless ache that made him want to punch a wall and pull her closer at the same time.

It wasn’t even logical. So what if she’d had someone before him? It wasn’t like he owned her. She was her own person, icy and untouchable as she was. And yet…

And yet.

The image of her brushing off his kiss the night before crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome. The way she’d wiped her sleeve across her mouth, the way her voice had been sharp, cutting, when she’d told him it wasn’t her first kiss.

The thought burned.

He clenched his jaw, spinning his pool cue in his hands like a restless fidget. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t the possessive type. He was laid-back, easygoing, always ready with a joke or a grin. That was who he was. That was what made him so good at this kind of thing.

So why did the thought of her with someone else make him feel like he was coming apart at the seams?

“Alright, spill it,” one of the guys said, breaking through his spiraling thoughts. “Who was it, huh? Some prince charming? Some straight-laced business major who knows how to schmooze parents?”

He scoffed, the sound automatic. “Please. Like I’d even know. She didn’t exactly give me a play-by-play.”

“Bet it was some boring, pencil-pushing nerd,” another guy chimed in. “She seems like the type to go for someone... predictable.”

Predictable. The word grated against his nerves. Predictable wasn’t him. It wasn’t them. Their relationship, transactional as it was, wasn’t supposed to fit into neat little boxes. It was supposed to be different.

He was supposed to be different.

But here he was, sitting in a dingy garage with his friends, trying to rationalize the irrational. Trying to figure out why he cared so much about a past that wasn’t supposed to matter.

“You guys are way off,” he said finally, his tone light but his grip on the cue stick betraying him. “If she did have someone before me, they weren’t memorable. She’s with me now, isn’t she? That’s all that counts.”

“Spoken like a true charmer,” one of them teased, and he smirked, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift.

Yeah, she was with him now. That was all that mattered.

So why didn’t it feel like enough?

———

The ribbing didn’t stop. If anything, it picked up speed like a train without brakes, and he was tied to the tracks.

“You’re really off your game tonight, man,” one of them said, chalking the tip of his cue stick. “You keep spacing out, missing shots, and letting us win? That’s not you. You’re usually the one handing us our asses.”

Another chimed in, leaning against the edge of the table with a sly grin. “Seriously, you’ve got this whole garage thinking. Is the great charmer finally losing his touch? That what’s bugging you?”

He twirled his cue with exaggerated nonchalance, plastering a smirk across his face even as his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles. “Please. Like I’d ever lose my touch. I could charm the rust off a bolt if I wanted to. I’m just... keeping things interesting. Letting you guys feel like you’ve got a shot for once.”

The laughter was immediate, loud, and thoroughly unconvinced. One of them even doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“Yeah, right. You’ve been distracted all night. And don’t think we didn’t catch the little bombshell you dropped earlier. The Ice Queen has a romantic history?”

“Shocking, right?” another piped up, voice dripping with mock astonishment. “I mean, no offense, but she doesn’t seem like the type to go for you. Or anyone, really.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt, knowing that trying to stop them would only make it worse. He’d been here before—well, not exactly here, but close enough to know the best way out was to wait until they got bored.

Too bad that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“I mean, think about it,” one of them continued, his tone growing more amused by the second. “She’s this cold, untouchable, straight-laced type. Always looks like she’s got a stick up her—”

“Careful,” he interrupted, his tone light but the edge unmistakable. The shift in the air was subtle but palpable, like the faint scent of ozone before a storm.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My bad. I was just saying—she’s not exactly your usual type. And you’re definitely not hers.”

“Yeah,” another added with a smirk. “She probably goes for, like, bookworm types. You know, the quiet, nerdy guys who read poetry and bring her tea while she’s working. The ones who wouldn’t dare try anything until they’ve written a formal letter asking for permission.”

That earned a round of chuckles, and his smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Not that anyone else noticed—they were too busy piling on.

“Yeah, man, face it. You’re too loud, too flashy. She probably thinks you’re just a walking ego trip. All charm, no substance.”

“Exactly,” someone else added. “It’s probably why your charm doesn’t work on her. She’s immune. Bet she’s only with you because it’s convenient or something.”

The words hit harder than they should have, slipping under his skin and sticking there like splinters. He forced out a laugh, sharp and just a little too loud. “Convenient? Yeah, right. She’s lucky to have me. I’m the full package: brains, brawn, and a personality that makes life interesting.”

“Interesting, huh?” another guy said, raising an eyebrow. “Or annoying? Pretty sure those are interchangeable in your case.”

“Hey, she hasn’t dumped me yet,” he shot back, deflecting with practiced ease. “That’s gotta count for something.”

But even as he spoke, the words rang hollow. His usual bravado felt like a thin shell, barely holding together under the weight of something he didn’t want to name. Something ugly, and burning, and clawing at the edges of his chest.

Jealousy.

He hated admitting it, even to himself. But the idea of her with some quiet, bookish type—the kind of guy who might actually understand her silences and match her calm, reclusive nature—was like sandpaper against his nerves.

And worse, the idea that she might prefer someone like that...

He clenched his jaw, his smirk freezing into something sharper.

“You know,” one of them said, breaking into his thoughts, “it’s kinda funny. For all your talk, you’re acting a lot like a guy who’s got something to prove. Like you actually care what she thinks.”

“I don’t,” he lied smoothly, his voice as light as air. “Why would I? It’s not like this is anything serious.”

The words tasted bitter, but he swallowed them down, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Whatever you say, man,” someone said, shaking their head. “But you might want to figure it out before she realizes you’re not as cool as you think you are.”

The garage erupted into laughter again, and he joined in, the sound loud and hollow.

But later, when he was alone, the laughter would fade, leaving only the burning question that wouldn’t let him rest:

Why did it matter so damn much?

────────────

The stars above the city burned cold, distant, and sharp as needles. The private balcony was far enough from the glittering chaos of the gala to offer a semblance of quiet, though the muffled hum of music and laughter still seeped through the glass doors. The cold air bit at your skin, but it was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the crowd.

He leaned against the balustrade, a champagne flute dangling from his fingers, the liquid untouched and shimmering like pale gold in the faint light. His tailored suit clung to his frame, the picture of nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed him—glinting with something predatory, something calculating.

“So,” he began, his voice smooth and edged with a teasing lilt. “I was thinking.”

You didn’t bother to turn from the view of the sprawling city below. “That’s dangerous.”

He chuckled, soft and low, but there was a weight to it that made your spine stiffen. He tilted his head, watching you like a hawk sizing up its prey. “Funny. No, really, I’ve been thinking about us.”

“Us,” you echoed flatly. “The contract is clear. There’s nothing to think about.”

“Sure,” he said, pushing off the railing and stepping closer. His presence was like a shadow swallowing light, oppressive and impossible to ignore. “But I’ve been reviewing it, and I think we’ve overlooked some... fine print.”

“Fine print,” you repeated, finally turning to face him, your expression impassive. “There is no fine print. You drafted it yourself, remember?”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Which means I have the right to amend it if I see fit. And I’ve noticed a few areas that could use... adjustment.”

You crossed your arms, your gaze narrowing. “Such as?”

He stepped closer, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the crisp night air. His tone was light, almost playful, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something that coiled around his words like smoke.

“For one,” he began, “I think we need to establish clearer boundaries about third-party interactions. You know, to avoid misunderstandings.”

Your brow twitched. “There haven’t been any misunderstandings.”

“Not yet,” he agreed, his voice soft and coaxing, like a blade hidden in velvet. “But let’s be proactive. For instance, we should clarify what kind of behavior is acceptable when interacting with... other men.”

You stared at him, your expression as unyielding as stone. “That’s unnecessary.”

“Is it?” he countered, his grin sharpening. “You don’t think it’s wise to define expectations? After all, appearances are everything. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about us.”

“People already know what this is,” you said coolly. “A performance. There’s no need to complicate it.”

“But isn’t the whole point of a performance to make it convincing?” he asked, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. “And for that, we need consistency. Unity. Which is why I propose we add a clause about exclusive proximity.”

“Exclusive proximity,” you echoed, your voice flat. “That’s absurd.”

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head. “Think about it. If we’re seen with too many... distractions, it undermines the whole charade. It’s just common sense.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already pressing on, his words smooth and relentless.

———

The air seemed to thin as his words settled between you, the kind of silence that carried a weight far heavier than sound. He leaned closer, bracing himself against the railing with the kind of ease that betrayed the sharpness lurking beneath his carefully curated mask of charm. The city glittered below, but its brilliance felt muted compared to the fire smoldering in his gaze.

“Let me break it down,” he said, his voice silken, the edges just sharp enough to catch. “Exclusivity isn’t just about proximity. It’s about cohesion. A story without holes. Every moment you’re with someone else—a colleague, a stranger, hell, even a waiter—it opens a crack in the facade.”

Your eyes flicked to him, narrowing. “You’re reaching.”

He smiled—a wolfish, predatory thing. “Am I? Think about it. Someone catches sight of you laughing with some random nobody, and suddenly, the gossip mill is running wild. The illusion cracks. We lose credibility. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s losing.”

The venomous certainty in his tone made your stomach twist, though your face remained unreadable. “So what exactly are you proposing?”

He straightened, his shadow looming over you as if it carried a weight beyond the physical. “Ground rules. For both of us. Simple ones. For example…” He tapped a finger against the champagne flute, the ring of the glass echoing faintly. “No private conversations with anyone of interest. No one-on-one meetings without prior notice. And no touching—intentional or otherwise—unless absolutely necessary.”

Your brow arched, your lips tightening. “No touching. That’s… excessive.”

“Is it?” he shot back smoothly, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. “Think about it. Even the smallest gesture—a hand on the shoulder, a brush of fingers—can be misconstrued. Especially when it’s you.” His gaze flickered, a flash of something unspoken. “People notice you. They watch. And they talk.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly against the balcony rail. “Fine. But if we’re establishing rules, they go both ways. You don’t exactly have a reputation for restraint.”

His grin widened, amusement flickering in the depths of his eyes. “Touché. Consider it mutual, then. No unnecessary interaction, no inappropriate proximity. Strictly business.”

“And why now?” you asked, your voice measured, almost detached. “Why bring this up tonight?”

For a moment, something flickered across his face—an almost imperceptible crack in the facade. But he recovered quickly, his grin sharpening. “Call it foresight. With the families involved, things get messier. More eyes, more pressure. We can’t afford to slip.”

You studied him, your silence stretching just long enough to make his fingers twitch against the railing. Finally, you inclined your head. “Fine. If that’s what it takes to keep this convincing, I’ll play along.”

He exhaled, a sound that was almost a laugh but carried none of the humor. “Good. I knew you’d see reason.” He lifted his champagne glass in a mock toast, the liquid catching the starlight like liquid fire. “To flawless performances.”

You didn’t respond, turning back to the city below. The cold bit deeper now, but you didn’t shiver. Behind you, his gaze lingered, heavy and unrelenting.

The ground rules were set, the game clearly defined. But as the night pressed on, the sense of control he so carefully clung to felt like it was unraveling thread by thread.

And it wasn’t the rules that haunted him—it was why he felt the need to create them in the first place.

———

He leaned casually against the railing, but his posture was deceptively loose, the sharp intelligence in his eyes betraying his calculated intent. The champagne glass in his hand caught the faint glow of the city below, though he hadn’t touched a drop.

“So,” he began, his tone laced with a playful edge, “while we’re ironing out the details, there’s another area I think we should revisit. Physical affection.”

Your eyes snapped to his, cold and narrowed. “What about it?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as though considering his words carefully. “Let’s be honest. Right now, the way things are? We’re convincing, sure—but just barely. The hand-holding, the occasional arm around the waist? It’s surface-level. Anyone with half a brain can see through it.”

“That’s the point,” you replied, your voice calm but firm. “It’s enough to maintain appearances without crossing unnecessary lines.”

His grin widened, but there was an almost imperceptible edge to it, a flicker of something darker in his expression. “Enough for who? The nosy old ladies at brunch? Sure. But for the vultures at this level? Not a chance. They smell weakness. And right now, what they see screams ‘contractual convenience,’ not passion. We need to up our game.”

You folded your arms across your chest, your stance unmoving. “Define ‘up our game.’”

“Well,” he said smoothly, setting the untouched glass on the railing, “kisses, for one. Not just the casual kind. Something real. Convincing. Hell, even a few heated moments in public wouldn’t hurt. And behind closed doors?” He gave a mock shrug, his grin turning teasing. “Who knows? Maybe even a little noise for the sake of appearances.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall from your skull. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” he replied, his tone maddeningly reasonable. “Think about it. The way things are now, people will start talking. Rumors of a weak marriage. Arranged out of convenience, not love. And with you being... well, you—” his gaze flicked over you, deliberate and lingering— “it won’t take long for people to start circling. People like to test boundaries when they think they can get away with it.”

“People already talk,” you shot back. “That’s inevitable. But none of this changes the fact that this is fake. I’m not pretending that far.”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin sharpening. “You’ve already agreed to exclusivity. This is just the logical next step.”

“It’s unnecessary,” you said flatly. “The exclusivity rules make sense. This? This is overreach.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost coaxing tone. “Is it, though? Think about it. If we don’t convince them, it undermines everything we’ve built. You don’t want to spend the rest of this arrangement fending off speculation and propositions, do you?”

“Speculation is manageable,” you said, your voice cool and steady. “And propositions are irrelevant. I can handle myself.”

“Of course you can,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense. “But why should you have to? Why not just nip it in the bud? Make it clear to everyone that you’re untouchable.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, your patience fraying. “I already am untouchable.”

His grin didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it—jealousy, sharp and bitter. “Sure. But people don’t see that. What they see is opportunity. The kind that comes from a woman who’s too beautiful, too brilliant, and too unattainable for her own good.”

The words were teasing, but the way he said them made your skin prickle. There was something possessive lurking beneath the surface, something he tried to bury beneath layers of logic and charm but couldn’t entirely hide.

“This isn’t about logic,” you said, your voice steady but edged with steel. “It’s about control. And I’m not giving you that.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin turning mischievous. “Touché. But hey, I’m just saying—when the rumors start flying and the vultures start circling, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You turned back to the city, dismissing him with a sharp glance. “Noted. But the answer is still no.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. “Fair enough. For now.”

———

The cold of the night pressed against your skin, biting and relentless, but his body, wrapped tightly around yours, was an oppressive heat you couldn’t shake. The weight of his arms on your shoulders felt heavier than it should, his fingers grazing your arms with a possessive slowness. He leaned into you, his chest firm against your back, his breath warm and invasive against your ear.

“You know,” he murmured, his tone as smooth as the glassy city lights below, “this hesitation of yours—it’s fascinating. Almost charming, in its own way. But... I can’t help but wonder.” His voice dipped lower, a silken purr laced with something darker. “What’s got you so hesitant? People do this all the time, don’t they? Even when it doesn’t mean anything.”

You stiffened, your gaze locked on the sprawling cityscape, refusing to turn. Your neutrality was a fortress, built brick by brick to withstand his probing. But his persistence was a battering ram. Slowly, deliberately, he dipped his head closer, inhaling deeply near the curve of your neck, the action intimate enough to send a shiver rippling through your body.

“Unless,” he mused, his lips curving into a smirk you couldn’t see but could feel like a knife at your throat, “it’s because of them. You know, the one who got that first kiss of yours. Was it them?”

The question hung in the air, venomous and cutting. For a fraction of a second, the apathy on your face cracked—a millisecond’s slip in the armor you wore so flawlessly. Your hand twitched, and your lips parted as though to respond, but no words came. Instead, your expression hardened once more, a glacial mask snapping back into place. Silent. Untouchable.

But he had seen it.

That brief, fleeting moment of vulnerability had told him more than you ever could. And though his smile remained, it was stretched too tight, his teeth bared in something that wasn’t amusement. His fingers dug into your shoulders, just a little too hard, before softening as if to mask the momentary lapse in control.

“Ah,” he said, the word slipping out in a low exhale, almost inaudible. He pressed closer, the air between you suffocating. “So it was them. That explains so much.”

His tone was still light, teasing, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable, coiling tighter and tighter beneath his practiced facade. His lips ghosted near your temple, the proximity a calculated weapon, and his fingers trailed down your arms, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

“You know,” he continued, his voice honeyed but sickly sweet, “whoever they were... they must have left quite the impression to make you this way. But I’m curious—did it mean anything to you? Or was it just... a moment?”

Your silence was deafening, a dagger plunged into the space between you.

He chuckled softly, though the sound was hollow. “Not that it matters, of course. You’re here now, with me. That’s all that really counts, isn’t it?”

But his grip tightened imperceptibly, his smile curving into something dangerous, something that betrayed the storm raging just beneath the surface. He didn’t let go. If anything, his hold on you became stronger, his presence more invasive.

And though he kept his composure, the truth was a venomous whisper in his mind, sinking its fangs deep and twisting.

Not fucking happy at all.

────────────

He didn't bring it up again. Any of it, anymore.

But, the room still felt colder than it should have. The air conditioning hummed low, but the chill that seeped into your skin wasn’t mechanical. It was the kind of cold that came from within, from the way your fingers gripped the edge of the desk too tightly, from the rigidity in your spine as you pretended not to notice the man leaning against the corner with the practiced ease of someone who could read you too well.

He’d been watching you for too long now, his gaze like a scalpel, peeling away layers you’d tried so hard to keep intact. He shifted, breaking the stillness with a deliberate, exaggerated sigh.

“You know,” he began, his voice carrying that maddeningly playful lilt, “if looks could kill, that desk would be in pieces by now. What’d it ever do to you, baby?”

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t.

He moved closer, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the sterile air. The sound of his footsteps was soft but deliberate, a hunter’s tread. “Still giving me the silent treatment? Harsh. I’m starting to think you don’t appreciate my charming company.”

“Go away,” you said, your voice clipped, devoid of emotion. Your fingers tightened on the desk, a small tell he didn’t miss.

“Aw, come on,” he said, his grin audible in his voice. “Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to help. You know, as your incredibly dedicated, selfless boyfriend.” He leaned closer, his hand resting on the back of your chair. “And let’s face it, I’m the only person who’d put up with you when you’re like this.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t look at him. It was exactly the reaction he wanted.

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone shifting to something softer but no less teasing. “What’s going on? You’re more wound up than usual, and that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” you said, the words flat, a wall slamming down between you.

“Sure you are,” he said, circling around to lean on the desk beside you. He crossed his arms, his smirk unwavering. “You know, for someone so icy, you’re terrible at hiding when something’s bothering you.”

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated, your tone sharper now.

“And I said I don’t believe you,” he shot back, his voice light but with an edge of persistence. “C’mon, Ice Queen. What’s eating at you? Work? Family? Or did someone finally dare to make eye contact for more than three seconds?”

You ignored him, your focus locked on the papers in front of you, but he wasn’t deterred. He crouched slightly, putting himself in your line of sight.

“Look, I get it,” he said, his tone almost mockingly serious. “You’re all about the whole ‘strong, independent, untouchable’ thing. Very admirable. But newsflash, sweetheart: nobody’s that stoic all the time. Except maybe statues. And even they crack eventually.”

You pushed back from the desk abruptly, rising to your feet, but he didn’t give you space. Instead, he moved closer, his hand brushing your arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really not gonna tell me, huh?” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Not even a hint? A clue? C’mon, I’m dying here.”

You stiffened, stepping away, but he followed, his persistence like a shadow clinging to your every move. His hand caught yours this time, his grip firm but not forceful.

“You know,” he said, tilting his head with a smirk that was all sharp edges, “this whole ‘bottling it up’ thing you do? It’s kinda cute. Annoying, but cute. But it’s also not healthy. So spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” you snapped, finally turning to face him. Your eyes were cold, your voice even colder, but he wasn’t fazed.

“Liar,” he said simply, his grin widening. “You’re terrible at it, by the way. And you know I’m not going anywhere until you give me something.”

You glared at him, your jaw tightening, but he just leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your arm. “Is it work? Someone bothering you? Or—” His tone shifted, sly and teasing now. “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it me? Did I finally get under your skin?”

“Always,” you muttered, pulling your hand free and turning away.

He laughed, the sound warm but with a sharpness that didn’t quite match. “Good. Means I’m doing my job right. But seriously, baby girl, if someone’s bothering you—besides me, obviously—you’d tell me, right?”

You didn’t answer, and for a moment, the teasing dropped from his voice entirely. He straightened, his gaze darkening as he watched you retreat to the far side of the room.

“You don’t tell anyone anything, do you?” he said softly, almost to himself. The words weren’t a question; they were a statement, heavy with an emotion he refused to name.

You paused, your back to him, but didn’t turn.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, his usual bravado snapping back into place like armor. He grinned, stepping toward you again. “Keep your secrets. But just so you know, sweetheart, I’m very good at getting what I want. And you? You’re not as unreadable as you think.”

The way he said it—soft, teasing, but with an undercurrent of something darker—sent a shiver down your spine. But you didn’t respond, and he didn’t push further. Not yet.

────────────

The glow of his laptop bathed the dim room in cold, blue light. The muffled sounds of the city filtered through the cracked window—a distant hum of engines, the occasional wail of a siren. But none of it reached him. His focus was absolute, his fingers ghosting over the keyboard with a precision that bordered on surgical.

Lines of text blurred and refreshed, tabs multiplied, searches refined. It was nothing. It was nothing. Just... research. A precaution, really. Something any diligent professional would do in his field.

"Due diligence." The phrase rolled through his mind like a soothing mantra as he adjusted his search parameters. Business students did this all the time, didn’t they? Gathering information on potential clients, tracking leads. It wasn’t unethical—it was smart. Practical. Just like he was.

His brow furrowed as the screen refreshed again, yielding nothing new. No personal social media accounts. No tagged photos. Everything you had out there was airtight—pristine. Your LinkedIn was polished to perfection, clinical and devoid of any personal flair. Your work email was meticulously professional. No footprints, no cracks.

You were a fortress, an enigma wrapped in ice, and it was maddening.

"Not even a stupid Instagram," he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing a hand through his hair. His other hand hovered over the touchpad, fingers twitching with a restless energy he couldn’t quite contain. He hated how good you were at this, at keeping the world at arm's length. It was infuriating.

And yet, it only made him more determined.

Because how else was he supposed to help you? Protect you? It wasn’t like you’d talk to him, let alone open up. You were a steel door slammed shut, your apathy the lock, and your sharp, biting tongue the key he could never quite reach.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t stalking,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud could make it true. “This is... protecting my investment.”

He winced at the word. It felt wrong somehow, but logical. The contract between you two was the foundation of your relationship, after all. If you didn’t want to share your problems with him, fine—but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. That wasn’t who he was.

“People research celebrities all the time,” he reasoned, his voice low and even, the rhythm of his own words calming. “Background checks, public records... It’s normal. It’s not like I’m invading her privacy. This is just... strategy.”

But even as he said it, a part of him bristled.

It wasn’t just strategy. And he knew it.

The truth was, it gnawed at him—the not knowing. The mystery of you was a drug he couldn’t quit, the unanswered questions keeping him awake at night. Who was the person who kissed you first? Why did your walls feel so much higher, so much thicker, lately? What the hell was going on in that brilliant, maddening head of yours?

He leaned forward again, fingers flying across the keyboard with renewed purpose. If he couldn’t ask you, he’d find out on his own. He told himself it wasn’t because he needed to know, wasn’t because the thought of anyone else touching you—or knowing you—made his stomach twist with something cold and acidic.

No, it wasn’t jealousy again. It was logic. Rationality.

But as the hours ticked by and the search grew colder, that logic began to crack.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen—one of the boys from the garage had sent a message, probably another joke about his “domestication.” He ignored it, returning his gaze to the screen.

Nothing. Again.

“Damn it,” he hissed, slamming the laptop shut with more force than necessary. He sat back, running both hands through his hair, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

You were impossible. And that impossibility—it thrilled him. Infuriated him. Tore at him like a splinter buried too deep to pull out.

But he wouldn’t stop. Not until he had answers.

Because protecting you wasn’t just part of the job anymore.

It was everything.

────────────

♡ Masterlist. If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

♡ Tag List. “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

[insidekatmind]

Consolation-Virgil Van Dijk

wearning: +18,smut.

Request: yes!

It’s late in the evening, and you’re comfortably seated on your couch, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of hot tea in your hands. You watched the match on TV: a tough loss, with mistakes rarely seen from such a strong team. You know Virgil is the type to carry everything on his shoulders, and you can’t stop thinking about how he might be feeling right now.

A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts. You’re not expecting anyone, but when you open the door, there’s Virgil, standing in front of you. He’s still in his tracksuit, hood pulled up like he’s trying to hide from the world. His face, though, gives him away: it’s marked by exhaustion and frustration.

“Can I come in?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Virgil, of course, come in,” you reply, stepping aside to let him in. You close the door behind him and watch as he pulls down his hood, revealing a tense expression and eyes that avoid meeting yours.

“Sorry for showing up so late,” he says, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you say, guiding him to the couch. “You know you’re always welcome here. Do you want something? Tea, coffee…?”

He shakes his head, sinking heavily onto the couch. “No, thanks. I don’t think I could get anything down right now.”

You sit beside him, giving him space to speak. You know Virgil isn’t the type to open up immediately, but it’s clear he’s wrestling with something big. After a long silence, he finally breaks it.

“It was my fault, y/N,” he says, staring at the floor. “That missed marking… that goal… I can’t stop thinking about it. I let the team down, the fans… everyone.”

“Virgil, listen,” you begin gently, “one lost match doesn’t define who you are—either as a leader or as a player. You’re one of the best in the world, and you know that. But even the best have off nights.”

“It’s not just that,” he counters, clenching his fists on his knees. “I’m supposed to be the anchor, the one everyone else can rely on. And instead… instead, I feel like I’m sinking. It’s frustrating, y/N. I don’t know how to pull myself out of this.”

You look at him, choosing your words carefully. “Virgil, being a leader doesn’t mean never making mistakes. It means showing others how to handle those mistakes. Your team doesn’t need you to be perfect. They need you to be human, to fight to get better.”

He lifts his gaze, finally meeting your eyes. “But it’s so hard… I feel like I’m letting everyone down, and it’s eating me up inside.”

You lean in slightly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “What really matters is how you respond to this feeling. No one can be perfect, Virgil, but you’ve already shown you can overcome challenges. This is just another one, and I know you’ll get through it.”

Virgil remains silent for a moment, then nods slowly. “Maybe you’re right,” he says with a small sigh. “I need to stop focusing only on what went wrong and think about what I can do to improve. But… it’s easier said than done.”

“That’s why I’m here,” you reply with a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to face this alone. Whatever you need, you know you can count on me.”

He offers a faint smile, the first you’ve seen since he arrived. “Thanks, y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Virgil gently takes your wrist and pulls you to straddle him.You stumble slightly as he pulls you onto him, your thighs resting beside his lap. You look down at him, your heart beating faster now. He looks up at you with an intensity in his eyes that you’ve seldom seen before. He keeps your wrist in his grasp, his fingers wrapped around it almost tenderly, yet with a hint of desire.

You can feel the warmth of his body against yours as he pulls you closer, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh. He watches you silently, his eyes roaming over your face. You take a breath, trying to steady your racing heart. “Virgil…?” you murmur, questioning, uncertain about the situation unfolding.

He doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze holding you captive. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes, something you rarely see from the normally strong and confident man. His thumb begins tracing slow circles over your thigh, the touch sending shivers up your spine. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice low and a bit hoarse. “I needed this,” he whispers, his hand on your wrist squeezing gently.

You nod softly, hugging him, stroking his hair.Virgil returns your embrace, his arms encircling you, pulling you flush against him. His head dips slightly, his face burying into your chest, his breath warm against your skin. For a moment, he just holds you, his heart beating against your chest, his fingers tracing light patterns over your back.

This tender version of Virgil, all vulnerability and gentleness, melts your heart. You run your fingers through his hair, your touch soft and soothing. You can feel the tension in him slowly start to ease away as he clings to you, seeking comfort in your presence.

After some time, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes are closed, and he looks weary, but his expression is less troubled than it was when he arrived. “Y/N…” he begins softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how you do it, but being here with you… it helps. Even on nights like tonight.”

"Do you want to spend the night here?" You ask softly, caressing his cheeks.He looks at you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if to gauge whether you truly mean your offer. Then, a small nod of his head answers your question. "Please," he murmurs, his hand on your thigh squeezing again. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

You nod and kiss his forehead softly, then his nose, and then his cheeks.He watches you intently as you press soft kisses to his forehead, his nose, and his cheeks. A soft sigh escapes his lips, his eyes never leaving your face. His grip on your thigh tightens slightly, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he let go for even a moment. Each kiss seems to soothe him further, the stress lines around his eyes smoothing out.

The silence in the room feels heavy yet peaceful at the same time. The only sound is your soft breathing and the occasional sigh from him as you continue to pepper his face with gentle kisses. He lifts his hand from your thigh, his fingers tracing your jawline tenderly, before his thumb brushes across your bottom lip. He seems to have calmed down completely now, all the earlier turmoil replaced by a quiet vulnerability.

"Y/N..." he murmurs again, his voice barely above a whisper, "I..." He trails off, his eyes filled with an emotion you can't quite name. He looks like he wants to say something important, but the right words don't seem to come. The atmosphere in the room is thick with unspoken words and untold feelings.

You can sense that there's more he wants to say, more that he's feeling, but it's like a dam holding back a flood of emotions. His hand, still on your jaw, moves to cup the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer. His eyes seem to be searching your face for something, a silent question in the depths of their blue.

The closeness between you is almost tangible now. You're so close that you can feel his breath against your skin, his body against yours. The air feels charged with unspoken tension, the space between you filled with a heady mixture of desire and something else, something deeper and more complex. He keeps touching you, his fingertips tracing over your skin as if he's committing you to memory.

Finally, he speaks again, breaking the silence that hangs between you. His voice is deeper than usual, and raw with emotion. "I need you," he murmurs, his fingers splaying against the nape of your neck. "More than I need anything right now... I just... I need you."

You nod and kiss him softly.As your lips meet his, he responds almost instantly, pressing against you with a hunger that you haven't felt from him before. He pulls you closer, his fingers tangling in your hair. The kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against your lips, seeking entry. He kisses you like a drowning man gasping for air, as if he's pouring all his unspoken feelings into that one action.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat of his body against yours, the strength of his embrace. There's an urgency in his kiss, a desperate need he's trying to convey. His hands roam over your body, touching, caressing, as if he's trying to assure himself that you're really there, really with him.

He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, to look at you. His eyes are darker than before, filled with a storm of emotions. He's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Y/N..." he whispers, his voice hoarse and raw with desire. "Stay with me tonight. Please... just stay."There's a vulnerability in his plea that cuts right to your heart. He needs you, not just now, but deeper, more permanently. He isn't just asking for comfort or physical connection; he's asking for something more substantial, a lifeline to hold onto amidst his storm of insecurities and fears.

You nod, your heart overflowing with affection for this man, who stands so strong in the face of the world, yet crumbles when alone. "I'll stay," you assure him, your voice soft but firm. "As long as you need me to, I'm not going anywhere."

You kiss him with more passion.The passion in your kiss stokes the fire that's been steadily building between you. He reacts instantly, the kiss becoming more intense, more desperate. He pulls you flush against him, his hands roaming over your body, seeking skin to touch, flesh to touch.There's a hunger in the way he kisses you, an intensity that borders on frantic. His tongue tangles with yours, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you even closer.

You gently pulled away to take off your shirt and then reattached your lips to his.His eyes follow your movements as you lift your shirt over your head, baring your skin to him. For a moment he just stares, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh, his gaze hungry and appreciative.As you return to his lips, he responds with a deep, guttural moan. His hands go to your waist, sliding over your bare skin, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you more fiercely now, his tongue delving deeper, his body pressing harder against yours.

He gently laid you down on the couch and took off the rest of your clothes and undressed himself too.As he moves over you, his naked body pressed against yours, you can feel the heat coming off him, his skin hot and smooth. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. His hands rest on either side of your head, bracing his weight on strong arms, trapping you beneath him.

As he moves over you, his naked body pressed against yours, you can feel the heat coming off him, his skin hot and smooth. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. His hands rest on either side of your head, bracing his weight on strong arms, trapping you beneath him.

In one sharp thrust he entered you making both of you moan into the kiss.You arch against him as he fills you, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. He moans into the kiss, his body shaking with restrained desire. He stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his hands clenching the fabric of the couch on either side of your head.

“Babe, you're squeezing my cock so good,” he murmurs, moaning, and begins to move quickly. His thrusts were not gentle at all. You could feel inch by inch going in and out.He mouths at your neck, his lips tracing a path from jawline to collarbone. His breath is hot against your skin, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, holding you steady as he sets the pace.

You moan feeling his thrusts getting harder and harder. "Virgil I'm close" you murmur nibbling his neck."I know," he rasps, his voice strained with the effort it's taking to hold back. "Just... hold on a bit longer, please..." His body is tense above you, muscles taut as he tries to maintain his control, not wanting this to end too soon.

He picks up the pace suddenly, his thrusts becoming faster, more urgent. His lips are back at your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "I can't hold back much longer," he mutters, his words barely decipherable between the gasps and moans.

You can feel the edge approaching, your body trembling, your hands clawing at his back, seeking an anchor in this storm of sensations. "Virgil, I..." you start to say, but your words fade into a guttural moan as he hits a sensitive spot.

"I know," he gasps, his voice hoarse. "Me too." He's struggling to hold back, the need to let go warring with his desire to prolong this moment. His hips pound against yours, his fingers gripping your hips almost to the point of pain, holding you steady as he reaches the limit

"I need..." he moans, the word hanging in the air, half-formulated. He doesn't know what he needs; only that he wants more, more of you, more of this, more of the pleasure that's threatening to consume him altogether.

He pulls out of you and then turns you on all fours and enters you again.He's behind you suddenly, his body pressed against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist. His breath is hot on your neck, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He waits for a moment, letting you adjust to the new position, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your ear.

“fuck” you moan feeling his thrusts get even harder. Virgil grabs a lock of your hair and pulls it making you arch and moan.

"Yeah?" He asks, his voice rough and low, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His grip on your hair is tight, his hand keeping your head tilted back, exposing the vulnerable line of your neck. “You like that, huh?”

“yes” you moan resting your head on his shoulders as Virgil continued to thrust harder. "very much".He chuckles breathlessly, the sound more a exhalation than a laugh. "I thought you would," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "You make the best sounds when I pull your hair like this."

You moan feeling his thrusts get stronger. One push in particular had you bent back onto the couch.He follows the motion, the force of his thrust pressing you down into the couch. Your body is arched, your back bowing under the combined weight of his body and the intensity of his movements. You can hear him panting, his breath hot against your neck, his hands roaming over your flesh, seeking to draw out more.

"God, you look beautiful like this," he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly with desire. "Bent over for me like this."Virgil slaps your ass and goes faster.

His hands are everywhere, roaming freely over your flesh, seeking to touch every inch of you. His lips are back on your throat, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of little bite marks in their wake.

“Virgil” you scream loudly moaning.He groans against your neck, your cry of pleasure going straight to his stomach. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice hoarse and raw. "Say my name again. I love hearing you say my name like that."

He moves faster, his hips slamming into you with every stroke, his pace picking up steadily. "Again," he gasps, his teeth scraping against the sensitive skin of your shoulder. "Say my name."

“Virgil” you moan again.He shudders behind you, the sound of his name on your lips sending a jolt through him. "Again," he demands, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he moves faster. "Say it again. I want to hear you."

You repeat his name, the word becoming a litany, a prayer on your lips as you're pushed closer and closer to the edge. His grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh as he urges you on.

“That’s it," he growls, his voice hoarse. "Just like that. You’re so close, I can tell. I can feel it. Come on, say my name again. Let me hear you say it one more time."His words are like a drug, driving you higher, higher until you feel like you’re going to burst. You repeat his name again, the syllables almost lost in the litany of moans and gasps that fill the air.

as you fall over the edge, your body spasming around him, a cry of pleasure torn from your throat. Behind you he groans, the sound guttural and primal. He follows you over the edge, his body trembling against yours as he comes, your name falling from his lips in a shuddering gasp. For a moment there's only the sound of labored breathing, the aftermath of pleasure leaving you both boneless and weary. He gathers you in his arms, pulling you down with him as he collapses back onto the couch, holding you close against his chest.

"That was..." he starts, his voice thick with emotion. He trails off, unable to articulate the maelstrom of feelings coursing through him. "That was... incredible."

You nod, your legs shaking with pleasure. You rest on his chest as you recover from your climax.He holds you against him, his strong arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. He drops a kiss on the top of your head, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. "You okay?" he asks quietly, the concern in his voice belied by the possessive way he's holding onto you.

You nod again, not quite trusting yourself to speak yet. Your body is still quivering with aftershocks, your mind a delightful buzz. You nuzzle against his chest, inhaling the scent of him, letting his presence ground you.

He responds instinctively, his hold on you tightening almost reflexively, as if afraid you might disappear if he lets go. "Good," he murmurs, the relief in his voice palpable. "I was worried I might've been too... rough."

"No," you find your voice at last, though it comes out as a gravelly whisper rather than your usual tone. "It was... perfect. I don't think I can move."Virgil chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Not surprised," he says, the pride in his voice evident. "I kinda went a bit... uh... overboard, huh?"

You give a weak nod, still feeling like your bones have turned to jello. "Just a bit," you manage to reply, a hint of a laugh in your voice.He tightens his hold on you just a fraction more, a possessive gesture that you don't mind at all. "Well, I'm not sorry," he says, sounding very much unapologetic. "You were making the most delightful sounds. Couldn't help myself."

"I have no complaints," you murmur, your eyes drifting closed. You can feel his heart beating under your cheek, the steady thump-thump like a soothing lullaby. You're tired, boneless, satisfied to the point of exhaustion, and very much not ready to move yet.

He seems to sense this and relaxes under you, his hand continuing that soothing motion on your back. "Get some rest," he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He doesn't seem in any hurry to move either, his body warm and solid beneath you.

You hum a wordless assent, already drifting towards sleep. The steady rhythm of his breathing, the reassuring presence of his body, the exhaustion of your recent activities all combining to pull you inexorably into unconsciousness."Sweet dreams," he murmurs, his voice a quiet whisper. You feel a soft kiss on the top of your head, his lips gentle and tender against your hair.

You murmur something inarticulate, too far gone to form actual words. The last thing you feel before sleep claims you is the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, a soothing thrum that lulls you into darkness.

[chanranghaeys]

😭

i've been putting off reblogging this because 1) i was busy AS A WORKING GIRLIE, 2) i was busy as a working girlie wishing for CHAN AS MY WORK SPOUSE, and 3) svt con weekend in my country haha

I'm Annotating my going insane because I Want To (below the cut~)

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting your afternoon coffee with Mr. Program Assistant?” 

i hate how kae clocked me for this as a nonprofit programs girlie hate it hate it hate it LOVE IT SO MUCH I COULD CRY. chan would be such a good programs person if he worked hard on it i can See it.

He doesn’t respond verbally, just smiles at you in that way that lights up a whole room. It’s the type of grin that has you forgetting just how bad of a morning you had; you’d lose yourself in it if weren’t for the ominous presence of Vernon a couple of seats down.

wow. wow. just imagine arriving to THIS at the office in the morning. i'd faint on the spot. or just outright kiss him—office etiquette be damned.

Vernon lets out a huff of laughter at Seungkwan’s side. “I’ll bet a dollar that it’s Lee Chan,” says Vernon. Seungkwan responds with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a given.” 

i've always maintained that i'd be so good friends with the maknae line irl as a forever svt maknae line truther. I Love Them.

It’s hard not to laugh when Chan is looking at you like that.

LIKE WHAT CHAN?? LIKE WHAT??

“Hey, Lee Chan, where’s your work wife?” Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s in a meeting with finance,” he answers without even looking up from his keyboard. 

i swear to have someone just know intimate details like this about you god i swear how was this not a giveaway???

“Well, tell her that we hope she gets better soon,” the CEO says coolly. A corner of her lip is upturned, like she’s finding this entire interaction a little too amusing.

sorry it's so funny to me that the ceo seems privy to these things seemingly evident in these little actions but of course she won't let anyone know about it my god it's so accurate imo

And, alright, fine. Maybe your knees knock into each other more often than not. Maybe Chan puts a hand over your ear whenever he wants to point something out, and maybe you lean in just a little more than necessary. 

these small details gaaaahh me me me it's me i would so do this

“Of course it’s important!” Chan’s always been a little louder when he’s drunk, so his voice raises an octave or two.

CHAN IS ALSO ME I SWEAR

But the moment the corner has been rounded, Chan is sagging against your side like he’s wanted to the entire night. “Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend sighs. “I didn’t think I’d survive another minute without touching you.”

/kinilig/ 🫠

You’re not sure if he’s entirely right— you know of Vernon’s whole iPhone note, after all— but you’re willing to indulge your boyfriend if it makes him happy.  “Yeah,” you concede. “They don’t know a thing.” 

something about vernon being the one to list all of this down makes me feel like he's doing this in tandem with seungkwan. or maybe a bet to see who will come up with a list first. idk. it's fun to imagine really.

this whole fic made me so warm inside my little fuzzy and fluffy heart. thanks kae for this wonderful little gift huhu bless u forever ✨

the way of the work husband 📋 chan x reader.

going back to work after the holidays sucks, but at least you've got your 'work husband' lee chan to get you through it.

★ office worker!chan x f!reader. ★ word count: 1.8k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: office, alternate universe: co-workers, fluff/romance. vernon is a menace (affectionately). not proofread. ★ footnotes: been itching to write chan lately and this was the result. dedicating this to my favorite corporate girlie!dinonara @chanranghaeys, who i have been threatening a chan fic with for a little over a week now ෆ sana all may lee chan sa office. 😔 + a special shoutout to @diamonddaze01 for educating me on the how work spouses operate. 🙏

“Is Lee Chan, like, your work husband or something?” 

The look on Vernon’s face is perfectly innocent, but his arched eyebrow gives some indication of just how amused he is. You shoot him a scathing glare before turning back to your work-sanctioned laptop. 

You don’t answer Vernon’s question. Not at first, anyway. Instead, you opt to wryly ask, “Why do you always have to use his full government name whenever you’re talking about him?” 

“Eh. Just ‘Chan’ is too short,” Vernon responds noncommittally. He should be focusing on the grant that he has to write, but he seems intent on quizzing you on your relationship with the company’s newest program assistant. 

Vernon leans a little further into his computer chair. He’s always been a pretty amicable seatmate; he just liked to poke the bear every so often. 

“So?” he prompts. “Are you and Lee Chan… you know.” 

When Vernon makes a vague, crude gesture with his hands, you groan out loud. “Don’t make it weird,” you snap. “And no. Chan and I are just friends, asswipe.”

“But you guys display peak work spouse behavior.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be grant writing?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to be getting your afternoon coffee with Mr. Program Assistant?” 

Vernon’s rebuttal has you glancing at the digital clock on your desk. Shit. 

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you say as you grab your wallet and get to your feet. You hate to admit it, but Vernon is right. You’ve started dedicating your fifteen-minute afternoon breaks to cafeteria trips with Chan. 

All in the name of friendship, you insist.

“‘Course it doesn’t,” Vernon sing-songs. Just when you think he’s done, he throws in a final jab. 

“I’ll have an itemized list of my observations,” he calls after your retreating back. “Just you wait!” 

You don’t turn around to dignify Vernon’s taunt with a response. Instead, you flip him off over your shoulder as you contemplate what coffee to get with Chan today.

Rarely are you late to work. Some mornings are just harrowing, littered with minor inconveniences like your alarm not going off or the bus making one too many stops. 

When you finally make it to the office, you can already imagine the CEO’s backhand comment about punctuality. Something like ‘early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable,’ probably. 

That’s why you feel an immense pang of relief when you notice a vacant seat near the back of the room, one that you undoubtedly know is yours. 

You make your way to the chair as discreetly as you can. The bag atop it is taken off the moment that you arrive, and you flash an appreciative grin at the one who made it possible. 

Chan— who is already shifting his bag onto his lap— gives you an exaggerated wink in return. 

You mouth a wordless ‘thank you’ at him. He doesn’t respond verbally, just smiles at you in that way that lights up a whole room. It’s the type of grin that has you forgetting just how bad of a morning you had; you’d lose yourself in it if weren’t for the ominous presence of Vernon a couple of seats down.

The meeting grabs your attention soon enough, but not before you notice Vernon inconspicuously typing something into his phone. 

☑ You always sit next to each other at meetings

“Who’re you texting?” 

“Hm?” 

“Hellooo! Pay attention to me!” 

There’s a guilty expression on your face as you finally glance up at Seungkwan. “Sorry,” you say meekly. “What were you asking?” 

Vernon lets out a huff of laughter at Seungkwan’s side. “I’ll bet a dollar that it’s Lee Chan,” says Vernon. 

Seungkwan responds with a roll of his eyes. “That’s a given.” 

“Yah,” you begin to protest, ready to justify the way you’ve only been half-present throughout your entire lunch break. 

Your attempt falls flat when your phone pings, and the screen lights up. 

One (1) new text from Channie. 🦖LOLOL I have the perfect reel for this!! Wait a minute~~ 💖💙

Seungkwan scoffs. Vernon snickers. 

Your eye twitches, and you shoot back a text underneath the table in a bid to avoid your friends’ teasing. 

☑ You message each other all day long

It’s hard not to laugh when Chan is looking at you like that. 

Despite the fact that there’s a whole brainstorming session going on— preparation for the company’s next fundraising event— the two of you can’t help your silent communication. 

Especially when Soonyoung starts running his mouth about the fundraiser potentially being tiger-themed. 

One glance is all it takes. Chan’s lips are drawn into a thin line, and you know he’s also trying his darndest not to laugh. It’s a mammoth effort to hold back yourself, but you manage— not wanting to suffer from your eccentric boss’ line of questioning. 

It’s all free game once the session ends, though. 

You make a beeline for Chan. He takes one look at your quirked lip before jerking his head towards the door, urging the two of you to have this discussion somewhere you won’t be lynched.

Still, you and Chan can barely resist your peals of laughter as you leave the meeting room with your heads bowed together. Vernon watches with bemusement as the two of you trade incoherent mumblings about Tigger and Pompompurin. 

Not that Vernon has any idea what those have to do with anything. 

☑ You exchange knowing glances from across the room ☑ You share inside jokes about work and life

“Hey, Lee Chan, where’s your work wife?” 

Chan doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s in a meeting with finance,” he answers without even looking up from his keyboard. 

A corner of Vernon’s lip twitches upward. Aha. 

Chan seems to pick up on Vernon’s smug silence. The younger boy’s head snaps up, his expression quickly becoming guarded. “Not my work wife,” Chan sputters. “Just— I knew where she was, okay?” 

“Riiight.” 

There’s a redness in the tips of Chan’s ears as he goes back to the Google Doc he’d been slaving away on. Vernon doesn’t say anything more, but he does feign like he’s texting someone instead of adding to his ever-growing list.

☑ Your other colleagues wonder where the other’s at when you’re not together

It’s a bit of an epilogue in its own right, how Chan is the one to know why you’re out for the morning.

The CEO had asked it mostly as a rhetorical question— has anyone seen her?— but Chan’s easy answer has the meeting coming to a stuttering halt. 

“She got stuck at her dentist’s appointment,” he says. 

Several pairs of eyes turn to Chan. The look on his face is comically caught.

He fumbles for his phone and waves it around awkwardly. “We were texting,” he adds hastily. “That’s why I know.” 

How that was supposed to help Chan’s case, Vernon has no idea. 

“Well, tell her that we hope she gets better soon,” the CEO says coolly. A corner of her lip is upturned, like she’s finding this entire interaction a little too amusing. 

Chan manages a mumbled “Will do.” 

The meeting pushes through. Vernon watches Chan from the corner of his eye. Aside from looking absolutely mortified, there’s just a bit of dullness to the latter’s demeanor. A slower uptake, a dimmer grin. 

Gee, Vernon muses as he types away on his laptop. Wonder why. 

☑ You’re kind of bummed when they’re out of office ☑ You cover for each other when one is MIA

Vernon’s running list is a fun little gig, but it all comes to head on the evening of the company’s monthly night out.

The table at the speakeasy is full of boisterous laughter and greasy finger food. Everyone’s in high spirits for the upcoming weekend, and Vernon has to hold back on teasing those who he thinks are having just a little too much fun. 

You and Chan have spent much of the evening acting like you’re in your own world. Sure, you’re not touching each other— this is technically a work event, after all— but you’ve shared laughter and whispers throughout the night that nobody else is privy to. 

And, alright, fine. Maybe your knees knock into each other more often than not. Maybe Chan puts a hand over your ear whenever he wants to point something out, and maybe you lean in just a little more than necessary. 

It’s obvious to anybody with two eyes that you two are fond of each other. That much is certain.

That’s what gives Vernon the boost of confidence to play wingman by the end of the night. 

“You know,” he says coolly as your group spills out onto the sidewalk. “I think the two of you live in the same neighborhood.” 

What Vernon is scheming is plain as day to you. You narrow your eyes at him, but he’s undeterred. He only smiles at you and Chan like the menace that he is. 

Chan, for his part, raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. He glances at you with a quizzical expression. 

“You’ve never mentioned that.” He raises his hand to his chest, as if feigning hurt at being kept in the dark. 

A snort of laughter escapes you. “Didn’t feel like it was particularly important information,” you say dryly. 

“Of course it’s important!” Chan’s always been a little louder when he’s drunk, so his voice raises an octave or two. “‘Cause that means we can carpool together, or, like, y’know—” 

Vernon interrupts with a sage, “You can probably book the same cab for tonight, actually. Make it a double stop.” 

Chan’s face lights up. “Great idea, man!” 

Before you can protest, Chan is already whipping out his phone to pull up his ride-hailing app. This is not a battle that you’re going to win. 

All the while, Vernon grins triumphantly. 

☑ You go home together after happy hour 

“Can we—” 

“Shhh. No, not yet.” 

“But nobody’s looking!”

“Wait until we’ve rounded the corner, idiot—” 

And so he does. 

But the moment the corner has been rounded, Chan is sagging against your side like he’s wanted to the entire night. “Oh, thank God,” your boyfriend sighs. “I didn’t think I’d survive another minute without touching you.” 

You can’t help the giggle that escapes you. The feeling is mutual, though, so you reach out to rest your hand on his knee.

“Commendable self-control tonight,” you note. “All the whispering was a little too obvious, though.” 

Chan huffs in protest, but the sound loses its edge as he cuddles up to you in the back of the cab. “No one suspects us. It’s just Vernon,” he complains. 

“And Seungkwan,” you say. “And Jeonghan, and Minghao, and Wonwoo—” 

Your boyfriend gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Doesn’t matter.” His hand rests on top of yours, just barely resisting the urge to intertwine your fingers. “They don’t know a thing about us, sweets.” 

The smile threatening to fill your face finally breaks. When you laugh, your shoulders shake against Chan’s body. You’re not sure if he’s entirely right— you know of Vernon’s whole iPhone note, after all— but you’re willing to indulge your boyfriend if it makes him happy. 

“Yeah,” you concede. “They don’t know a thing.” 

[ssa-danhotchner]

Happier | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Years after their breakup, y/n struggles with seeing Hotch move on with his new partner, Beth, while still working alongside him every day.

cw: use of y/n, past relationship, heartbreak, angst?, themes of moving on, Haley mentioned. let me know if I missed anything

wc: 1k

note: English isn't my first language so please be kind. I had the entire sour album stuck in my head. Please give me some ideas to write

The sound of laughter echoed faintly through the bullpen as the last of the team packed up for the night. You sat at your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your computer. The words of your report blurred together, the glowing monitor casting pale light over your exhausted face. You didn’t even know why you were still there; everyone else had gone home.

Everyone, except for him.

Aaron Hotchner.

It had been years since the two of you had ended things, but the wound never seemed to fully heal. Time had dulled the ache, sure, but it hadn’t erased the memories.

You could still see the way he’d smile when it was just the two of you, the way his hand would linger on yours longer than necessary, the way he whispered your name like it was the only word that mattered. Back then, it felt like you had something unshakable, something real. But life had a way of pulling people apart, and for you and Aaron, it had been no different.

It wasn’t a dramatic breakup. There were no screaming matches, no accusations hurled in the heat of the moment. It had been quiet, almost agonizingly so. You’d both known it was over before either of you said the words. The demands of his job, his grief over Haley, and the ever-present weight of being a single father—it was too much for him to bear. And you, despite loving him more than anything, hadn’t been enough to bridge the growing gap between you.

“I can’t give you what you deserve,” he’d said that night, his voice heavy with regret. “You deserve more than stolen moments and half-hearted promises.”

And that had been it.

You had cried, of course. For weeks, maybe months. But you told yourself you’d be fine, that you’d move on. You tried to convince yourself that his words weren’t true, that you could have made it work. But deep down, you knew he was right.

Still, knowing it was the right thing didn’t make it any easier.

Now, years later, you had settled into a new normal. Working alongside him every day was a constant reminder of what you’d lost, but you’d learned to compartmentalize. You had to. There was no room for personal feelings when lives were on the line.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself.

Your eyes drifted to his office, where the light was still on. Through the glass, you could see him sitting at his desk, his phone pressed to his ear. His face softened as he spoke, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You knew who he was talking to.

Beth.

The name tasted bitter on your tongue, though you hated yourself for it. She was kind, warm, and good for him. You’d never met her formally, but you’d heard enough to know she made him happy. And wasn’t that what you wanted? For him to be happy?

But it wasn’t that simple.

Because every time you saw him with her—every time you heard him mention her in passing—it felt like someone was twisting a knife in your chest. You wanted him to be happy, but not like this. Not with her.

I hope you’re happy, but not like how you were with me.

The lyrics played on a loop in your mind, echoing your most selfish thoughts. You wanted to believe he still thought of you, that some small part of him missed what you’d shared. But the rational part of you knew better. Aaron Hotchner wasn’t the type to dwell on the past. He had moved on.

“Hey.”

His voice startled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see him standing in front of your desk, his expression tinged with concern.

“You’re still here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I could say the same to you” you replied, forcing a small smile.

He didn’t return it. “You should go home. It’s late.”

“I will” you said, though you had no intention of leaving just yet.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt heavy, weighed down by all the things left unsaid.

“Are you okay?” he asked finally, his dark eyes searching yours.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just tired, I guess.”

He nodded, but you could tell he didn’t quite believe you.

“Goodnight, y/n” he said softly, his voice carrying an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Goodnight, Hotch”

You watched him walk away, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet of the bullpen.

Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest threatening to crush you. You hated how much power he still had over you, how his presence could unravel you so completely.

Leaning back in your chair, you closed your eyes, letting the memories flood in despite the pain they brought. You thought of the nights you’d spent tangled together, whispering secrets in the dark. You thought of the way he’d kiss your forehead before leaving for work, murmuring promises to come back to you.

And you thought of the way it all ended, the way he walked out of your life without looking back.

It wasn’t fair.

You wanted to move on, to let go of the love that still clung to you like a ghost. But every time you tried, you found yourself pulled back to him, to the man who had once been your everything.

You sighed, grabbing your bag and shutting off your computer. As you walked to your car, the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to soothe the ache in your heart.

Sitting behind the wheel, you gripped the steering wheel tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.

“I hope you’re happy,” you whispered to the empty car, your voice cracking. “But don’t be happier.”

The words hung in the air, a quiet confession to a love you could never fully let go of.

And as you drove away, the memories of him lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the love you once had—and the happiness you’d never find again.

[jacaeryslover]

KING OF MY HEART: a jacaerys targaryen one-shot.

SUMMARY: jace sits the iron throne, his children want to play with him but he's busy being a good king! reader explains and plays with them.

the ends of your deep blue dress slips against the cold floor of the red keep, you are looking for two little brown haired heads, your children. when you finally arrive to the nursing room, you see lydia trying to play with your eldest son, lucerys, she seems like she's trying really hard to make him feel better.

today is that day of the week, jace is supposed to spend some quality time with his heir, they use that time to play, read or even have lectures about the importance of his father's job, and in the future, it will also be his.

"luke, is everything alright?" you ask tenderly, you knew what happened, but you wanted your own son to tell you, or at least his sweet sister.

lucerys was a lot like you, he was bold but sweet, he had a strong sense of duty. his hair was brown like his father and his cheeks and nose were adorned with tainted freckles, your daughter rhaegan on the other hand was just like her father, she was sweet and caring.

"yes" he mutters quietly, almost like a whisper, but it was enough for you to hear it. his eyes dancing between the wooden carved horses and fishes that lydia swung in the air, in the attempt of making the child play with her.

rhaegan on the other hand, was busy drawing. she had a taste of drawing every type of things, bugs, spiders, castles, and people. she once said that portraits were her specialty.

"rhaegan, do you care to tell me why your brother is sulking?"

the quiet girl finally speaks, lifting her head from her drawing to look at her mother's sweet eyes. "he is sad because father couldn't play with him".

jacaerys never missed the opportunities to play with his children, everyone knew that. so something important had to come up for him to do so.

"well, luke. your father must be very busy, you know he loves to play with you" you say, trying to make your son a little bit happier.

"you know your father works very hard for the people of the realm, his job is of very importance"

"i know, but i miss him" luke says, and it breaks your heart. you knew it was going to be hard, balancing family and the realms duties, but it has to be done nonetheless. and you were proud of your husbands work so far.

and just as he appeared in your thoughts, he stepped into the room with a big smile, ready to dedicate the rest of the day with his children. his apologetic look did not go unnoticed by you.

"i'm sorry, my children. i had some important business to attent to. it will not happen again" he said, taking a place next to you, catching his son's hard gaze "i'm sorry luke, please forgive me" his soft voice directed just to his older son, while bringing his right hand to play with luke's brown hair. a mirage of his own brother.

okay i apologize for this, it's awful but it's been sitting in my drafts for months now and im just letting it go

[illubean]

Nerd!Gojo x Goth!Reader

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: College!AU, Oneshot, Gn!Reader

part of a mini series of oneshots :3 lmk if you want a p2

Warnings: none? reader wears makeup/dresses but is still gn

For someone with the hobbies and interests of the likes of Satoru Gojo, he was pretty popular around campus. Men and women alike often talked about his looks, or the fact his family owned a large corporation, but what they didn't care to talk about was that Satoru Gojo was a complete loser.

Despite how popular or known he is, he only has about four friends and is the captain of the varsity E sports team for crying out loud. Not only that, but he was a computer science major..

Let's just say they're not really...known for good things.

Despite how nerdy and awkward he is, he still managed to draw attention to himself, whereas you preferred to separate from the masses. There was no doubt your dark, elaborate outfits and heavy makeup turned some heads while you roamed the corridors and quads, but other than that you've kept a relatively low profile. Though most people never really paid much mind to you aside from an initial glance, you managed to catch the eye of the aforementioned varsity E sports player.

He thought you were stunning.

From your flowing black dress and large boots to your eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch, the white haired boy was completely and utterly enamored with you. And when a dopey smile forms on Gojo's face and his head gets all spacey, that's when Geto and Shoko realize he's spotted you somewhere across the field. Despite almost everyone preferring the weekend, Gojo's favourite days were Mondays and Wednesdays.

The days you sat in front of him in creative writing.

He spent most of the class periods staring at the back of your head, leaning against his palm with hearts in his eyes as he fantasized about what it would be like to be yours. He would watch as you scribbled away in your notebook, perfecting your story for next week, which he always looked foreword to reading during critique. Gojo has never once had the courage to approach you directly, though. Your ethereal beauty scared him; there was no way someone as perfect as you would even spare him a passing glance.

So, his friends got to listen to him sigh and daydream about you with no end.

"Did you see their outfit today? That lacey corset compliments them so well. And that dark lipstick. I wonder if it's flavored-"

"Holy shit can you shut up? We get it, you like the goth kid," Shoko complained, taking a drag from her cigarette.

Geto chuckled at her annoyance before making a remark of his own.

"Instead of spending all this time wondering, why don't you actually go talk to them."

'You know I can't do that! They're just...they're just so cool," Gojo whined, shrinking into himself and resting his head against the table they were sat at.

"Tough luck then," Shoko said, putting her cigarette out before gathering her belongings and standing from her spot.

"I have to get to my bio lab."

"I should head off too. I have civics in 10 minutes. See ya, Satoru."

And with that, Gojo was left alone having already finished the last of his classes for the day.

Damn it. What do I do now?

Gojo pouted while he continued to sulk for a moment, pondering what he could do with the rest of his day. After a while of sifting through his options, the snowy haired male picked up his bag and made his way to the library.

Maybe I can check out the new VR center.

Gojo's mind began to wander as he thought about all the things he could try on VR. He was lost in thought, feet taking him down the halls of the library before stumbling into someone, the sound of books thudding against the floor snapping him from his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry about that," a soft voice spoke.

Upon raising his head, his eyes came in contact with a pair of (color) ones, his cheeks heating up slightly upon realizing who he just bumped into.

After a beat of silence, his eyes widened as he scrambled to help pick up all of the books you dropped, noticing one in particular that he recognized.

“...'Mythology of Ancient Civilizations’?” Gojo asked before realizing how silly he must have sounded.

You raised an eyebrow. “You familiar?”

Gojo nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, I’ve read it like… five times. I mean, the whole concept of storytelling through myths is incredible. The gods and monsters… They’re like the first fantasy novels, you know?”

Your mouth twitched into a small smile, intrigued at his words.

“Huh. I didn’t take you for someone who’d read stuff like this.”

“Yeah, I guess I don’t look it,” Gojo chuckled, scratching the back of his head nervously. “I’m usually more into… y’know, video games and stuff.”

“I could tell,” You comment, motioning towards his street fighter T-shirt. He looked down towards what he was wearing before his face flushed with embarrassment, sinking into himself as you chuckled at him.

"Gojo, right? You're in my creative writing class. I assume you like story telling, huh?"

The male's face lit up at this, before going on a tirade about the topic.

"I love story telling! I'm a computer science major and I'm trying to be a game dev which is why I'm taking creative writing. My favorite types of games are RPGs, like the LOZ franchise or Final Fantasy. They're not just about shooting stuff or solving puzzles, but they're interactive worlds that should matter just as much as books or movies! I'm actually working on a game right now about-" he cut himself off, seeing you now had a sly smirk stretched across your face.

Feeling shy once again, he cast his gaze down before saying "Sorry. I kind of went on a rant there..."

You let out a small, melodic laugh at this.

"It's okay, you're passionate about something. I think that's cute."

His heart fluttered at your words while his blue eyes wandered everywhere but to meet yours. He realized he was still holding on to your books, and he rushed to hold them out to you.

"Uh- sorry again. Here."

You gently took the books from him, fingers slightly brushing past his, setting off the butterflies in his stomach.

Their skin is so soft...

"Well, I'd love to hear about your game sometime, but I gotta get going. You free friday?"

Gojo couldn't believe his ears. You were asking him to hang out!?

"Um- yeah! I have practice from 1-3 though..."

"And by practice, you mean playing League of Legends for 2 hours?" you teased.

He nodded, slightly embarrassed by this.

"Meet me at 4 then. See ya!"

You sauntered past him, waving as you made your way towards the exit.

No way.

I have a date!

[arbitrarykiwi]

Third Times a Charm: Bodytalk 3/3

Nam-Gyu (Player 124) x AFAB Reader smut series

Summary: you ran into him three separate times. First was at a house party, second time was at a club. And like his favorite drugs, he was addicted. The third time? Well he wasn’t going to let you get away so easy. Third times a charm and he was going to get his fix. ((Non-squid game au))

Warnings: smut (18+), LONG (guys..I thought 6k for the last one was bad….this is 11k words...I couldn't help myself), drug usage (only weed this time lol), smoking weed, sex while high, stalker! Namgyu themes, fem centered pet names, divider added were smut starts for convenience, he calls the reader a bitch once, he’s fucking nasty, this is straight porn- v little plot, i feel like i need to go to confession, p in v sex, oral ( f receiving ), fingering, squirting, dirty talk (he really can’t keep his mouth shut), choking, spitting, multiple orgasms, creampie (have safe sex), there's probably more- read at your own risk, was proof read but I am dyslexic.

Previous chapters: Taste Test: 1/3 , Oral Fixation: 2/3

The third time you met him- he came to your place.

You were doing chores around your place- candles were lit, Spotify was playing loudly on the large living room TV rotating through your favorite songs, and even cookies were baking in the oven!

It was two days after your run in with Nam-Gyu at the club. All you could think about was him. The new energy that his interactions gave you was a welcomed motivation. However, to say you were a little nervous he wouldn’t text you was an understatement, you were terrified.

You eased your worries about his absence when you thought about how the last time he was with you- he had to leave with a drug deal gone awry- and you’re familiar enough with the scene to know how time consuming and stressful dealing with that could be.

Still, the absence of him hit you more than you thought it would. He truly had you wrapped around his finger.

To rid yourself of the thoughts, you continued to busy yourself with cleaning your apartment. Soon the oven chimed off a ‘ding’ letting you know the cookies were done. You clapped to yourself, walking to the oven, grabbing the pot holders and pulling the tray out of the oven.

While they cooled you poured yourself a drink, leaning on the counter and looking at your clean place with a sense of accomplishment. You took a sip from the cup and began to think of what else needed to be done.

You pushed yourself back off from the counter, figuring you could get some laundry done. Before you could take a step your phone pinged. Figuring it was just an app notification or one of your friends, you make your way over to your phone with no abnormal excitement.

But when grabbed your phone of the kitchen island and the screen turned on, your heart caught in your throat

‘How’s my pretty girl doing?’

The text came from an unknown number. It blared on your locked home screen as you reread it over and over, your heart rate spiking- you could feel your heart beat in your chest.

‘How’s my pretty girl doing?’ It was like he already claimed you as his, whether you liked it or not.

You unlocked your phone with shaky, excited hands, opening the message, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you try to think about what to say.

You begin to type when three floating dots pop up, signaling he’s typing again.

‘I’m sorry for not texting you sooner. You really were all I was thinking about. Texted you as soon as I could.’

‘Let me make it up to you? I want to see you’

The texts come in one after the other, in rapid succession. It was if he knew you had your phone open to his messages- just watching his texts come through.

‘You gonna roll for me? Make it worth my time?’ You text back with a small laugh to yourself. You know he’s worth your time- well worth it. But you gotta give him some hell for making you wait so long to hear from him! You see the three dots pop up on your phone screen, you bite your lip as you watch him begin to type.

‘Of course, what kind of man would I be if I didn’t? I even got some new shit I can bring, all for you.’

You smile at your phone, leaning on your kitchen counter and re-reading his message over and over. You finally begin typing to respond, ‘Now you’re speaking my language, come over at 7?’ , you hit send.

‘Sounds like a plan, I’ll be there.’

You don’t even bother texting him your address, remembering at the club how he told you he already found your address. The idea of him seemingly stalking you should have set you off, but here you are inviting that same handsome stalker over- and doing it excitedly.

You returned to your room to get more presentable. Fixing your hair, putting on the cute new lounge set you just got, and spraying some perfume- you excitedly got ready.

You walked back to the living room, settling in on the couch and turning on some random show to try and settle your excited nerves.

A couple hours passed and before you knew it, a knock resounded at your front door

You quickly stood up from the couch walking to the front door. Your heart was in your chest. This was the first time you and him would be alone. It was about time. The thought of it made your head spin.

You reached the door, hand moving to unlock the silver dead bold. With a resounding ‘click’ your hand grips the door knob and pulls the door open.

He stood there with a grin, one of his hands in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding a small bouquet of your favorite flowers.

Your breath catches in your throat- you mind reeling. The gesture, the flowers alone, was sweet. Already a large contrast to your flings with him. Hell, he fingered you in someone’s house and face fucked you in his office at a club- you guys weren’t exactly the most romantic pair.

But the fact they were your favorite? That can’t be a coincidence. His smile widens when he sees your expression. “You post an awful lot about your favorite flowers. Your friends get you some every year for your birthday, hard to miss in most pictures on your page.” He quips, stepping forward and running his fingers around your waist and wrapping his arm around your back.

His head tilts to the side as he looks you over. Yet again, he was taking it into his own hands to get to know you- stalking your socials to get to know little details about you. It was endearing in a way. You take the flowers with a wide smile. “You’re such a creep. Thank you.” You say with a giggle, standing up a bit taller to lean in and place a small kiss on his jaw.

You hear him take in a large breath, his hand pulling you into him and gripping your waist just the slightest bit harder when your lips touch his skin. It’s like he’s trying to restrain himself.

“Callin’ me a creep, yet you still let me cum down your throat. What’s that say about you, hm?” He says, dropping his head to begin pressing kisses down your neck and over your shoulder.

You laugh, his lips tickling you as you stumble back. You try to pull away, well ‘try’ is an overstatement. You feebly writhe against him, a joke of an attempt to get away from him to try and close your apartment door.

He laughs against your neck, his lips continuing to trace along your neck. His leg kicks behind him, shutting your door for you, his arm that’s not around your waist reaches behind him to lock the door.

He pulls away finally, his head tilting back upright to look at you. His hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. “‘M sorry for keeping you waiting.” He says in a low voice, nearly a whisper as he looks you over.

You hum, smiling and lifting a hand up to hold his cheek, thumb rubbing a circle along his skin as you tilt your head like you’re thinking. “I suppose I can forgive you…” you say with a pout that immediately turns into a laugh.

He watches as you laugh and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen and your laugh is the most enchanting sound he’d ever hear. He can’t help but to pull you closer to him by your waist, your chest pressing against his as he catches your lips in a kiss.

It catches you by surprise, a sound like a small squeak comes out into the kiss. But when the feeling of his lips is finally on yours once again, you simply melt into him. Your legs feel like you go limp, his arm around your back only thing keeping you up as your lips move against his. The kiss is surprisingly soft and meticulous like he’s been without the feeling of your lips for too long. And to him he has.

As he pulls away, his hand dances along your spine.

You guys stand there for a moment, just staring at each other. You break the silence, realizing the hand that holds the large bouquet of your favorite flowers is causing your hand to ache as it’s held up in the air. “I gotta find a vase for these.” You say, nodding your head over to the flowers in your hand. He nods, “I suppose you’re right.” He says with a chuckle, placing another quick kiss against your lips before releasing you.

You walk over into your kitchen, leaning on the counter and reaching up to pull open a cabinet. Grabbing a vase and turning around to the kitchen island where the sink was beginning to fill the vase up with water.

He leans over the opposite side of the kitchen island just watching your every move. As you begin to unwrap the flowers he got you, grabbing a pair of scissors to cut the stems, you look up at him. “So did you bring your ‘new shit’?” You tease, referring to his texts.

He laughs nodding and reaching one hand back into his back pocket, pulling out a heady bag of weed and placing it on the counter and shrugging. “Your offering ma’am.” He says with a wink. It has you giggling. You continue to cut the stems, squinting your eyes and looking at the bag skeptically with a smile “hmm…I’ll allow it.” You say in a fake prissy tone that has him laughing along with you.

You finish cutting the flowers, tossing the cut stems in the trash nearby and gathering the gorgeous blooms. you place the flowers in the vase. You step back and just stare at them, they’re your favorite yes- but it looks like each flower is pristine, in full bloom and the most vibrant it can be, like the hand picked each one out to create the best bouquet.

“Thank you again, they’re gorgeous…” You say with a smile, looking back over to him. You find him staring at you with his chin resting against his palm, elbow resting on the countertop. He’s looking at you with such a genuine, enamored gaze. “Of course, sweetheart. Someone like you deserves only the best.” He says with a wink.

You move around the counter next to him, mirroring how he leans over the counter. Your hands reach to the bag of weed on the counter and drag it towards you. You twirl it in your hands then turn to him. “So you gonna make good of your other promise and roll f’me?” You say, leaning closer to him, your noses practically touching. “You got it princess.” He mumbles, placing slow kiss on your lips. “Lead the way.” He says pulling away, a hand reaching back to slap your ass.

You giggle, spinning around to begin to lead him down the hall to your bedroom.

So there you found yourselves, in your room, laid out on your bed. He’s behind you, legs spread open leaving a perfect space for you to be. You’re leaned back between his legs, back against his chest, your legs crossed- holding up the rolling tray that’s covered in broken down weed.

His arms are around you, chin resting on your shoulder. His hands work to fill in the wrap with the weed. His fingers working a practice that has you mesmerized. The silver rings adorning his fingers reflect the distorted colors of the TV show you guys had playing. The veins of his hand pop out and you watch the way they move and flex with every movement he does.

From out of the corner of his eyes he sees you’re no longer watching the show, your eyes are locked on his hands as he begins to roll up the blunt.

You feel him chuckle, bringing you out of your trance. “You’re not even paying attention to the show.” He says before placing a quick kiss on your jaw. You giggle turning your head to place a proper kiss on his lips with a smile.

“‘M sorry, you have nice hands and they look really good rolling.” You say pulling away and looking down to watch him begin to roll up the blunt. He laughs, following your gaze.

He holds it up to you, the small section of the wrap not rolled sticks up out of the blunt. “Do the honors..” he says, nodding to the blunt. You look to him and smile, knowing exactly what he wants you to do. Your tongue darts out of your lips to run against the expanse of the wrap that was sticking up, wetting it.

As you do it you can feel his eyes on you, watching your mouth and tongue closely. He hums in approval as you finish, folding the flap over and sealing the blunt.

He takes the lighter from off of the rolling tray, flicking it and dragging the tip of the flame over the blunt, drying the part you licked and sealing it.

He transfers the blunt to one hand, the other wraps itself around you, caging you into him. He adjusts himself, leaning back more, guiding you with him to lay back on his chest. As he does it you can feel his cock drag against your back. You feel filthy about it, you can tell he’s not even hard, and all you’re thinking about is his dick against your back.

Your thoughts are cut short when you slowly start to feel the swelling of the start of an erection in his jeans. You sigh with a soft laugh thankful you’re not the only one who’s so worked up.

He nuzzles his cheek against your hair as his leans his arms forward more, lighting the blunt. You relax into him, he’s so warm, you think. Your eyes flick back to the TV, watching whatever was going on in the show as he takes the first hit.

The blunt is soon put infront of your lips, all you have to do is pick your head up the slightest bit. You wrap your lips around the blunt and inhale, leaning back on his chest as you blow the smoke upwards.

His hand that doesn’t hold the blunt moves under your shirt, his fingertips dancing along your the skin of your stomach in light motions.

He passes it back to you again, you repeat the same motions and take a slow inhale, exhaling the smoke in a slow plume of smoke. You can feel your body becoming lighter, a warmth rushing over your insides as your eyelids become heavy. “You really did bring the good shit.” You say with a laugh, your eyes rolling back to look at him behind you.

“I don’t lie about my product.” He says taking a hit himself, his hand traveling farther up your shirt and resting just under your bra, his thumb rubbing circles on the center of your sternum. You nod, can’t argue with that. “Glad you like it.” He adds, blowing out the smoke then placing a kiss on the top of your head.

His hips cant upwards, dragging his hardening cock along your back, you can’t help but to whine and try to grind your hips back onto him. His hand resting under your bra moves down your stomach and down your pubic bone. His fingers dance along your inner thighs as he places the blunt back in front of your face.

You take your hit, holding it in for a bit before releasing your breath. His hands inch inwards, his fingers dancing along your clothed cunt, ghosting over you in feather light touches that begins to make a bubbling warmth in your build in your lower stomach.

You bite your lip, holding in a moan as you jerk your hips into his touch. His palm rests on your pubic bone as his fingers rub up and down your pussy over the fabric of your clothes.

“Take your pants off, pretty.” He hums, hitting the blunt, watching as you quickly grip the waist band of your pants, lift your hips and pull them down and off your legs, throwing them to the side. You go to do the same thing with your panties when he stops you. “I didn’t say take those off.” He scolds. You whimper and nod, your bottom lip catching in your teeth as you settle back down.

His eyes train onto your panties. They’re lace with a cute little bow on the front. Similar to the ones you had on when he first met you. He smiles fondly at the memory, his hand returning to your lower stomach. His fingers dance along the lace top of your panties, gripping at the fabric and pulling up. It creates a delicious drag along your clit that has your head falling back against his chest.

He repeats the motion a couple times before letting the fabric go, his fingers moving further downwards to dance along your clit over your panties. He lets out a low laugh, feeling how wet your panties have already gotten, your arousal beginning to leak through the fabric. “Already so excited to see me…” he says.

You shiver, the way he says it you can tell he’s not talking to you- he’s talking to your pussy.

It has you whining and gyrating your hips against his hand. He slaps his hand against your cunt, each time his hand connects you jump.

You can’t take it, you quickly sit up, turning around on your knees to face fim, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. It’s a mess of tongue and teeth as he kisses you back, his tongue exploring your mouth with a determination that has you spinning.

As the kiss continues to get more heated you feel him guide you backwards by your hips, the lit blunt hanging loosely between the fingers of his left hand. He guides you up, allowing both of you to sit up on your knees. He still towers over you, having to bend his back to lean and continue the kiss. His hands are all over you in a frenzy, yours soon following.

As your mouths move together, your hands run up his shirt, lightly scratching at his abdomen. He sighs into the kiss you can feel his stomach tense under your touch. When you move your back down his stomach and to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it, he pulls back- placing the blunt in his mouth and tilting it down. His hands grip the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the side of your room. He removes the blunt from his mouth and attaches his lips right back on yours

Your hands move along his bare chest and stomach, feeling all of him. The heat of his bare skin under your palms has you whining into the kiss. Soon he’s mimicking your motion, free hand crawling up your shirt to grope at your breasts over your bra.

This time you pull away, pulling your shirt over your head and reaching back to unhook your bra- attaching your lips right back on his in a rush. You can feel him chuckle into your mouth at your equal enthusiasm.

His hand returns to your chest, his hand splaying over the plush of your breast before kneading it. His fingers pinch at your nipple, pulling at it as he breaks away from the kiss. As he releases your nipple, he watches as your breast jiggles when it drops back into place.

His chest is heaving, his tongue wetting his lips as he looks you over. “You had no idea how bad I missed your lips…missed you.” He mumbles, his free hand not holding the still smoking blunt runs up your waist. It makes you shiver. “You could have come by sooner…” you pout.

He laughs, his hand coming up to cup your face “I know, I would if I could have. But I’m here now and you’re not getting rid of me.” You smile and lean into his hand, turning your face to kiss his palm.

As he watches you nuzzle into his palm, he lifts his other hand holding the blunt to his mouth and takes a long inhale. His hand on your face moves to the back of your neck, pulling you forward into an open mouth kiss, letting the smoke rain into your mouth. You inhale and melt into him, your hands finding purchase on his abdomen.

He pulls back from the kiss, smoke still swirling between your mouths when he feels your hands trail down his stomach and begin to work at the button of his pants. His hand that doesn’t hold the blunt catches your wrists. The size difference has you whimpering. His one hand is large enough to encase both your wrists, stopping you from getting what you wanted.

“As much as I love the way your mouth feels around my cock, tonight’s all about you sweet girl.” He hums, pushing you by the wrists so you sit back up on your knees, giving him enough space to mirror your position.

He raises from his sitting position on the bed to sitting on his knees, pulling you back forward by your wrists. Your breasts press against his chest, his hand still holding your wrists together and down in between the two of you. He brings his other hand up to his mouth, taking a long drag from the blunt.

In the low light of your room the cherry of the blunt burns a vibrant red-orange hue, lighting up his face in an upward light. He’s so handsome it’s downright sickening. You can’t help but stare. His eyes never stray from yours as he moves his hand back down to his side. He blows the smoke out. His eyes are hooded, tinged red and hazy.

He guides your hands up in front of his face, still held by his one hand. He places a gentle kiss on each of your palms before releasing your hands hand passing the blunt back to you.

You take the blunt- frozen. Your mouth hung open. “Hit it.” He says nodding to the blunt. When you don’t move he returns his hand to your one wrist and guides your own hand to your mouth. You finally hit the blunt, inhaling. “There you go…” he hums with a grin.

When you begin to blow out the smoke his hands grab your waist and spin you around, throwing you down onto your bed- head sinking into the plush pillows. You let out a squeak of surprise, your hand that holds the blunt lying limply out to your side, wrist quirked up so the lit end wouldn’t touch any of the fabric on your bed. He’s hovering over you, between your legs with a smirk.

He pulls back, sitting back on his heels, removing a black hair tie that’s around his wrist. In a quick moment, in motions that are practiced, his hair is put up in a small pony tail. It’s half up and half down, small hairs falling out around his face that refused to stay up in the elastic.

It was so fucking hot.

You must have been staring, mouth agape, because he laughs. He leans back down, hand cupping your face, holding your cheek to make you look at him. “That hot to you?” He says with a grin. You don’t answer, just looking at him with a doe eyed look that has his cock growing even more.

His hand taps your cheek a couple times, bringing you back out of your daze. “C’mon you’re a big girl, use your words.” He taunts, but you know it’s also an order as he returns his hand to cup your face and give your face a harsh squeeze.

“F-fuck yes it is…” you say with a smile, a breathless laugh and a nod, reaching up to his face and pulling him down to you. You kiss him with a fury, one that takes him off guard for a split second before he’s kissing you back with just as much fever. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, your mouth falling open in response. He sucks on your tongue in a dexterous manner. It has you whining into his mouth and arching your back off the bed, pressing your chest into him.

He laughs into the kiss, pulling away to begin leaving opened mouth kisses along your neck. His teeth leaving marks that blossom along your skin in his wake. He kisses down your chest, his mouth sucking purple bruises on the swell of one of your breasts while his hand reaches up to envelope the other one in his girl.

You’re helpless under him, a panting mess the feeling of his tongue along your skin only leaves your panties to become even wetter, beginning to stick to your cunt, the fabric several shades darker that what it’s supposed to be.

His warm mouth engulfs your nipple, tongue circling around it in a methodical pattern, teeth grazing over it every so often. When he feels your hips begin to thrust into the air, a desperate attempt for your cunt to get any sort of simulation, his own hips thrust into the mattress of your bed, rubbing his stiff, clothed cock against the plush bedding.

His teeth pull your nipple, letting it go with a ‘pop’ as he begins to kiss down your stomach. He stops when he gets to the top of your panties, pulling away to sit up and look at you.

He takes all of you in, his eyes moving over you slowly, looking over each one of the red bite marks and blooming purple bruises that litter your skin. His hands run up your waist, growling at how small you look under his grasp. His hands squeeze your waist as he speaks, “I’ve been thinking about the taste of your pussy since that time at the house party….” He says, his eyes still tracing over your body.

You can’t help but bite your lip at his words, your chest heaving with a large breath. “You know how fucking hard I had to beat my dick after I cleaned your cum off my fingers just to think straight again?” He admits through a hissing tone, his hands squeezing your waist hard enough to make you whine before letting up.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, your cunt practically making a pool on the sheets below you, coating your inner thighs in a shining mess. You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off, “and I just know…” he drawls on, his hands returning down to your hips, gripping your panties, pulling the fabric away from your flesh, “that a cute thing like you has a perfect pussy to match.” He finishes, snapping the elastic back against your skin. It makes you jump and arch into him.

He laughs at your reaction, running his hands over the stinging skin to soothe it before he grips the fabric once again. This time, he pulls it down, you lift your hips off the bed to help him pull the lace down and over your ass. He laughs, watching as strings of your arousal that are connecting your cunt to your panties eventually snap.

When he pulls the cloth fully off of you he slides his hands up your thighs, slowly pushing them open, putting you on display for him.

He sucks in a breath and lets out a low, feral sounding growl, as he looks at your bare cunt for the first time. “Ohhh….” He coos, his hands massaging your thighs, “and I was right…look at you…” he hums, his eyes flicking up to look at your face. When he sees you’re not looking at him, but instead bashfully looking to the side, he leans forward, bringing one of his hands from your thigh up to face, “Look at me.” He demands, turning your head forward so you were forced to look at him, “There you are sweet girl…” he says when you meet his eyes. “Want you to watch.” He adds leaning in and placing a slow kiss on your lips.

You obey, watching him sink down and begin trailing soft kisses from your navel, down your stomach, down your pubic bone then placing one last kiss on your clit.

When his hands adjusted to wrap around your thighs and he licked his lips, getting his first taste of you tonight, he was in heaven. He’s on your pussy immediately, his tongue working over the expanse of your pussy with no real set motion- he was just tasting you.

He was eating you like a man starved, like the arousal you secreted was the water he needed to live. Like a man drunk on the finest, most expensive liquor, he was slurping you into his mouth with a newfound desire.

When his tongue enveloped your clit in a long flat stripe, you cry out for him, your knuckles turning white from the grip you had on your sheets. He begins to suck your clit in and out of his mouth, any time it passes the soft, plushness of his lips, his tongue was on it in languid flicks. It’s all so much, it has your body twitching with pleasure, your body trying to move back on the bed, like you’re trying to run from the pleasure he’s giving you.

“None of that.” He growls, pulling you back to him by your hips. “No running away.” He says, emphasizing his words by licking a wide stripe up your pussy. “I’ve waited too long to taste your fucking cunt, and I’m going to take my time with you.” He says, looking up at you from between your thighs. His eyes are shadowed by his lashes but the hungry glint in his eyes is impossible to miss. His large hands trail upward to the crease of your thighs, pushing them open.

He dives back in, like a man starved. His tongue circles your clit in slow movements. The slurping sounds he’s making is straight up pornographic. He’s dragging it out in an almost sadistic slowness, twisting his tongue in skilled figure eight motions along your clit. He pulls back, sucking your clit into his mouth before releasing it with an obscene ‘pop’ of his mouth. The motion has your back arching up like a cat, your hips desperately chasing his mouth.

He pushes you back down, his hands gripping at your thighs, leaving crescent shaped imprints where his fingernails dug into your flesh. “You’re wasting the blunt.” He says, a wicked grin on his face. You don’t even register what he’s saying, your eyes closed and your head thrown back. But the feeling of his heavenly tongue does not return, he’s not resuming.

You open your eyes and look down at him. He’s looking up at you like a snake ready to have its meal. “The blunt. You’re wasting it.” He repeats, nodding over to the blunt that hangs limply in your hand.

Oh the blunt. You completely forgot about it with the way his tongue was working against you. “I-“ your voice cracks, it’s shameful and you can do nothing to hide it. “I-It’s a little hard to hit it…” you manage to get out. He shrugs, resting his chin on your tummy. “And you’re wasting it.” He says simply, his grin widening.

You suck in a shuddering breath, bending your arm and bringing the blunt to your lips. He nods slowly. You wrap your lips around the blunt and begin to inhale.

His hands move under your legs, lifting your hips the slightest bit so he can wrap his hands around the tops of your plush thighs, yanking you down the bed and back onto his mouth. He resumes, his mouth enveloping your pussy in a shameless manner. You whine around the blunt, it’s a muffled sound that has him chuckling against you. The vibrations of his laugh only add to the sensations causing you to grind your hips onto his tongue.

He hums against you, watching you carefully as you exhale the smoke, your head falling backwards against the pillows. Your moans ring out through your bedroom, only making him more excited.

Your moans to him are like an instant drug rush, like a violent high that crashes into him- causing him to pull you into his tongue. And when his tongue pushes its way into your velvety walls, you cry out a wanton sound that has him humping your mattress.

You knew the drill- not wanting him to stop you bring your shakey hand to your mouth and take another drag of the blunt. The weed only causing the feeling of his tongue to become even more formidable.

Humming around your clit in approval, his tongue worked around you, lowering itself to your entrance and twisting around it teasingly. He tried to restrain himself, he really did, but the way you squeezed around the tip of his tongue had him diving straight into your cunt. You tasted like the sweetest honey- squeezing around his tongue in pulsing movements, dripping more and more of your essence onto his wet muscle. He moans into your pussy. His eyes rolling back into his head as he swears your cunt is sucking his tongue in, never wanting to let go.

You whine as he pulls away. Your pussy exposed to the cold air of the room. He stares down at your cunt, his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal.

His hands release his grip on your thighs, pulling themselves from under you and splaying themselves on your inner thighs. One of his hands removes itself from your thigh, rubbing along the entirety of your cunt. He’s truly just playing with you, watching as sticky webs of your wetness cling to his fingers and the lips of your pussy. Every movement making a raunchy squelching sound. And all you can do is just moan and writhe under him.

And his eyes are still trained on your cunt. His head turning and lowering, resting his cheek on your thigh, hot breath fanning against your pussy as he simply admires how wet you are. “Such a pretty pussy…” he mumbles, more to himself than you.

His thumbs rub along your labia, spreading the mess of your own arousal and his spit. You moan out suddenly when his thumbs spread you open. It’s shameful, and debauched. “So wet f’me, huh?” He says his eyes flicking back up to you. His hand lifting from you and spreading his ringed fingers, showing how your wetness webs between his fingers. You nod frantically, your hips bucking up into the air desperate for more simulation.

His eyes flick back down to your cunt, hands retuning to their spot, spreading you wide open for him. Watching as your pussy helplessly clenches around nothing, pupils dilating even more when he watches a thick trail of your wetness drip out of you. Thumbs still keeping your thighs back and cunt spread open, he dives back in, his tongue collecting the creamy bead of arousal on his tongue before licking up to your clit with a loud slurp. You cry out, your moans like a song to him.

He pulls back, making a show of swallowing. You’re embarrassed, being so spread out like this. His thumbs are massaging in and out of your opening, spreading you even more before removing themselves, repeating the motion over and over. Your thighs fight against his hands. He immediately lifts himself up more, pushing your legs back down in a harsh movement.

“You better fuckin’ keep your legs open.” He warns. You bite your lip and nod, your body twitching under his hold, but you keep your legs open. His hand slide back to your inner thighs, thumbs resuming their prior placement of spreading your cunt wide open for him. Your dripping hole and puffy clit on full display.

You watch as he sucks his teeth, purses his lips and spits directly on your cunt. You can’t help but let out an obscene whine, eyes rolling in to the back of your head. He’s back on your pussy in an instant, tongue moving around the entrance of your cunt before pushing back into your gummy walls.

You scream out in pleasure, your hands reaching down to grip at his scalp. When your fingernails scratch at his skin, pulling at his hair he moans into you, moving with more vigor.

He settles back intro the bed, arms going back under your thighs and wrapping his hands around them, pulling you impossibly closer to his mouth. He shakes his head in your cunt pulling back with his tongue lolled out of his mouth for breath. “Taste so fucking good…” he murmurs against your pussy, licking a stripe up the entirety of you for emphasis, pulling back again “Could eat you all fuckin’ day…”, he says his fingers reaching across your pubic bone and circling his fingers against your clit.

You cry out and twitch against his hand, you wanted to…no, needed to cum. You pull at his hair, trying to bring his mouth back onto your pussy but he resists. His eyes move from watching your pussy drip for him to watching your flushed face. “You know better than that…” he says in a low warning, the look on his face alone is enough to remind you of his earlier remarks.

Use your words

“Please N-Nam-Gyu”, you stutter out, “I need to cum. Please, your m-mouth, your f-fingers, any-Oh! Fuck!”you’re cut of when he replaces his still fingers with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive bud in soft, fast motions. Your head falls back onto the pillows, your chest heaving with heavy, panting breaths.

The hand that was just playing with your clit slides off your thigh, his leaving a wet trail of your arousal around the flesh as he pulls his hand back. His fingers circle your entrance, two digits slip in easily. He moans against your clit as he feels the sweet, warm, grip of your cunt around his fingers. “So tight…” He murmurs against your clit.

His fingers work expertly, thrusting into you and curling up, the motion making lewd squelching sounds every time he was knuckles deep inside of you. His tongue never let up, switching between licking at your clit and sucking it into his mouth. “Squeezing’ my fingers so hard…” he words muffled by your cunt, “You gonna even be able to take my cock?” He mocks, scissoring his fingers inside you for emphasis. It has you moaning in pitch and tone that you didn’t even think you were capable of emitting.

His fingers switch back to the repetitive curling motion that has you seeing stars. When his fingers curl up in just the right way, you keen over, curling up and pressing his face into your cunt with a loud squeal “oh fuck! Right there!” You cry out, flopping back down onto the bed breathlessly.

He hums into your pussy, fingers never moving from where you needed them most. With every stroke of that soft spongy spot inside of you, you’re coming closer to your orgasm.

You feel like you can’t even think straight, your vision is hazy. All you can do is grind down onto his fingers and tongue. “You gonna cum on my tongue?” He says, looking up at you, his lips brushing against your clit as he speaks. “I can feel your squeezing my fingers. Gonna make a mess f’me?” He speaks against your cunt. You nod frantically, hips jerking violently against his tongue. “S-shit…” you cry through clenched teeth, it felt so fucking good, you bite your lip and manage to moan out a “Uh-huh,” as you feel yourself about to cum.

His pace speeds up, it’s a violent onslaught of pleasure that has you orgasm wracking through your body violently. You can hear your cum gush out of you, a pornographic, sloshing sound. He chuckles against you, quickly removing his fingers and replacing them with his mouth, his tongue working you through your orgasm, drinking up every last drop of your cum that gushes out of you.

You writhe against his face, twitching against the bed, your breath coming out in choked gasps. You have pull his head away by his hair to get him to stop. When you look down you whine, the view just has you ready to cum again right then.

His head is held up by your hands entangled in his dark hair, the ponytail he put his hair in was disheveled, his tongue was lolled out of his mouth, like he was trying to return to begging tongue deep in your pussy, his saliva and your cum dripping off the tip of his tongue and pooling in a sinful puddle on your pubic bone. He grins, his eyes hooded and pupils blown.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” He coos, his breath tickling your pussy causing you to twitch again. You nod, brushing his hair that has fallen out of the elastic tie, out of his face. “Mhm…felt so fuckin’ good.” You praise him. He smiles, his lips, chin, nose, and even his neck are coated in your cum.

He sits up, walking his hands up the bed on each side of you until he’s hovering over your face. “Want you to taste yourself.” He says as he lowers his face, kissing you without giving you time to respond. You moan into the kiss, tasting yourself own cum on his lips. Your hands come to cradle each side of his face, pulling I’m impossibly closer to you, your mouth opening to accept his tongue excitedly.

He adjusts himself so he’s back on his knees, his hands pulling your hips up onto his. Your back is lifted partially off the bed. He’s hunched over to continue kissing you, his jean clad erection beginning to grind into your pussy.

He continues his movements, moaning into your mouth. In his head he scolds himself, it’s shameful how much dry humping is effecting him. He swears he could cum in his pants then and there as he can feel the wetness of your pussy soak not only through his jeans but his boxers the longer he continues the slow grind of his hips into you.

He has to pull away, pulling away from you to stand up off the bed and rid himself of his pants and boxers. He’s back on the bed in an instant, slotting himself exactly where he just was. He pushes your thighs back, putting you on perfect display for him.

His cock rests heavy against your cunt. He draws his hips back, his hand holding the base of his dick as he slaps it once, twice, three times against your pussy. Each time you jump, your bottom lip becoming caught between your teeth as you whine, wanting more of him.

He’s doesn’t grant you that solace though instead he runs his cock through your folds, his fat cock-head bumping against your puffy clit. “You were squeezing the life out of my two fingers…” he muses, watching the way his cock splits your pussy lips open everytime he thrusts his hips forward. “It will be a miracle if my cock can fit inside you..” he hums with a condescending tone, the head of his dick just barely pressing into you before pulling back and resuming to rub against you.

You let out a soft moan , not being able to hold it in any more. “Hmm…” he moans “You sound so cute.” He praises, his eyes never straining from where you to meet. “I can take it. I will.” You say desperate, sitting up to look down to see his view. And when you do, you let out a wanton moan that has cock jumping.

“Yeah you will..” He lets out in a low rasp as he begins to push his cock into you. It’s a stretch that has you arching your back off the bed like a cat. When the fat head of his cock sinks all the way into you, you both let out a loud, blissful sigh.

Not even half way in and your pussy is milking his dick for all it’s worth. He shudders, beginning to think he might not even fit inside you if you’re squeezing him this hard. “Sweetheart…” he slurs, his eyes closed and eyebrows screwed together in concentration. “Ya’ gotta relax…you’re choking my dick.” He says in a strangled voice, sinking in just a bit more.

His eyes open to look down at where he’s sinking into your weeping pussy. His hand splaying on top of your pubic bone, his thumb reaching down to rub circles on your clit. A moan is forced out of you at the sensation, your cunt relaxing, causing him to slip in half way. Your moans come out and echo each other. Feeling half his cock being surrounded by your spasming tightness has him letting out a choked wine and falling over you, his hand catching himself, falling next to his head.

“You are so fucking tight.” He hisses, dropping down onto his elbow so he can lower his head to the crook of your neck. You can hear his labored breath tenfold now, his nose right under your ear. He draws his hips back, letting out a low moan as he feels how you squeeze around him- like your cunt is trying to suck him back in. He thrusts his hips back forward, sinking further into you.

You writhe against him, whining a pathetic mix of his name and pleading for him to just fuck you. When your hands remove themselves from gripping the sheets and reach up to wrap around his back, nails digging into his shoulders and your legs wrap around him, heels digging into his lower back- he drives his hips back once more, roughly thrusting his hips forward and finally bullying his cock balls deep into your cunt.

You let out a choked moan of his nails dragging down his back. You can hear him moan a low “Fuuuuckkk.” Before grinding his pelvis into your ass, basking in the feeling of being fully inside you.

You can’t help but pant out sharp rapid breaths, you feel so full. “Oh my god…” you whine out, eyes rolling to the back of your skull when he continues the slow grind of his hips. “Y-you’re s-so fucking b-big.” You sob out. He kisses your neck a few times before sitting back up. He watches how your lips are parted, eyes rolled back in your head, your chest heaving like it’s too much- but you still take it.

“I know, princess…I know..” he says with almost a chuckle at how you struggle to take him but you’re so set on doing so. He leans down to kiss you, you feebly kiss back as best you can even when you can’t stop moaning. He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting on yours as he draws his hips back and begins to set a brutal pace of hammering his cock into your cunt.

He keeps his forehead against yours, wanting to feel the way your breath jumps with each thrust. His bottom lip catches between his teeth when he feels your nails continue to rake down his back.

You manage to open your eyes for a brief second, the view above you is absolutely sinful. His hair has long since fallen out of the ponytail, the strands falling and framing his face and covering you in a shadow. The silver chain that hung around his neck dangled over you, swaying with each thrust of his hips. Your eyes dart to either side of you- to his arms that are planted on either side of your head. His biceps are large the muscles flexing. Tattoos litter his forearms and upper arms. You try to make a mental note to look at them later in more detail because you can hardly keep your eyes open- eventually losing the fight. Your eyes roll back as a loud moan falls from your lips as his cock continues to ruin your pussy.

He pushes himself up once more, leaning back to look down at your cunt. He growls under his breath when he sees the white ring of your arousal that is collecting at the base of his dick. He watches as he spears his thick dick into you. He thinks then that the sight of your cunt stretched open obscenely wide around his cock will forever be one of his favorite views.

His hands grip your hips, pulling you to meet every one of his harsh thrusts. It’s a force that has your bed creaking. You feel the warmth building in your lower abdomen, a white hot feeling expanding in the deepest parts of your cunt. Your moans only get louder and higher pitched, your hands reaching up to grope at your own tits.

When he sees this, his eyes “Nasty fuckin’ bitch…you’re close huh?” He says with a sadistic lilt to his voice. Hits one that has your eyebrows upturning into a desperate state, your head nodding, “Y-yes, fuck yes.” You whine out, your hips beginning to gyrate as he thrusts into you, never letting up.

He increases his pace. It’s a hot, sticky mess. You can hear it each time his balls slap against your ass. One hand removes itself from your hip, his fingers coming to play with your clit as he continues his brutal pace. He moans, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he feels you clench even harder around him.

“You gonna make a mess on my cock?” He asks, turning his head back down to look at you and your frantic nod. He watches as you try to speak but are cut off pathetically by your whines. “Do it, come on, pretty girl. Wanna feel you cum.” He says, his fingers working faster on your clit.

It doesn’t take long before you snap, letting out a high pitched, choked scream. You cum, and you cum hard. “Fuck! M’cumming….holy fuck!” You nearly screech, your back arching high off the bed, hips pushing down into him like you could never have him deep enough. He lets out a strangled moan as he feels you spasm around him, rocking his cock into you to allow you to ride out your orgasm.

When you come back to earth, he’s kissing around your face. “You okay? Did I break you?” He says, kissing the corner of your mouth. You giggle and reach up to hold his face, turning him to kiss you properly. “M’okay…was s’good.” You slur against his lips, still in the blissful aftermath of your orgasm.

He laughs “Well that’s good…” he says, it sounds like he’s going to say more but he doesn’t. He hums, pulling his still hard cock out of you. You shut your eyes and wince as he does, the emptiness feeling odd. When you open your eyes he’s sitting back on his heels, looking at his cock that was covered in your cum. You let out a soft whimper when you watch him begin to fist his dick, his wrist twisting up and down- using your cum and lube. “….because we’re not done.” He says, his eyes darting back to you, finally finishing his sentence.

Your eyes widen and you have no time to register before he’s manhandling you onto your hands and knees. His hand pressing your back into an arch.

He kneels behind you, his hands massaging the globes of your ass as he admires your position. One of his thumbs trail inwards, rubbing a light circle on your clit, it has you whining, jerking away from his touch. “‘M sensitive.” You plead, looking back at him over your shoulder.

“Oh I know..” he murmurs, his thumb repeating the motion, but this time you arch into his touch. He laughs, “but look, you’re still so needy…” he says tilting his head mockingly. He fists the base of his cock, rubbing it between your folds.

“All that time you spend dancing on me…grinding your ass back on me….” He lists, dragging his dick up and down, up and down, collecting your cum and arousal on the tip of his dick, “…what I was really thinking about was bending your over and fucking you from behind like the whore you are for me.” He growls, canting his hips forward in a brutal motions, sinking all the way into you.

You moan out into the pillow, eyes rolling back into your head. hands fisting the soft fabric, bunching it into your grip as if it will ground you.

His hips slam into you at a brutal pace, the backs of your thighs and his pelvis coated with your arousal. Every thrust makes a sticky sound and as he pulls back it connects your skin to his in white strings. You cry into the pillow, his cock stretching your pussy in ways you didn’t think was possible. “So fuckin messy..” he hisses, pulling you back on his cock to meet his thrusts.

He’s so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach “F-fuck…o-oh my god…” you whine out, hands reaching back, trying to push on his stomach, it was so much. He scoffs at your weak attempt, the scoff turning into a groan as he feels your nails rake down his stomach. Even though you try to push him away, your cunt pulls him back in a vice like grip.

You moan into the pillow, arching your back further as incoherent babbles of ‘more’ and ‘please’ fall from your lips, your hands still pushing him away in a conflicting battle. He was really fucking you stupid.

He grips both your wrists, crossing your arms behind your back and keeping them pinned there with one hand. He pulls you up, your shoulder blades touching his bare chest. His other hand comes up to grip your throat.

As he hooks his chin over your shoulder, he thrusts once more into your cunt, balls slapping against the plush of your ass before he stills, beginning to roll his hips in a slow, a deep grind. Your breath hitches, truly feeling all of him inside you.

“Look at that…..” He says his breath tickling your ear. “Taking all of me so well…” He says, squeezing your throat just a bit harder. “Every. Fuckin. Inch.” He growls out, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips, bullying his cock even deeper into you.

“N-Nam-Gyu…h-holy shit.” You cry out, grinding your hips back into him, wanting more. He laughs at your desperation. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to fuck you….” He rasps. “Be inside this tight cunt..” He tightens his grip on your throat, just enough to cut off a bit of air.

You clench around him, the feeling cutting off his words. He falters, pulling you into him with a whine of his own. “Fucking Christ, you’re gonna kill me pretty girl…” he says, his lips attacking your neck, his hips resuming their movement.

He fucks up into you, your cunt making wet squelching sounds with each thrust. You can feel him moan and pant against your neck as his lips kiss along your jugular. His hand releases your neck and the other one, your wrists. His hands come up under your arms to run up your stomach and to your breasts.

His nose runs along your neck as he continues to fuck you. Every breath he takes, every groan that falls from his lips is right next to your ear. His hair that falls from the small ponytail tickles your shoulders. “I can feel you creamin’ all over me….so fucking wet.” He growls, his hands gripping at your tits, massaging the flesh as he continues to ruin your cunt.

It was all so, so, so much. It felt overwhelmingly good and his filthy praises only helped to make it so much better. Choked out whines and moans fall from your lips, you’re sure you’re drooling too. “All f’me huh?” He asks. You can’t even respond as his cock keeps hitting the soft spongy spot inside of your cunt that has you seeing stars.

He laughs at the lack of your response, his hands dropping your breasts and pushing you back down into the pillows by your waist. One of his hands immediately finds itself running up the back of your neck and entangling itself into a tight fist in your hair- shoving your face into the pillows as he slams his cock into you. “Awh c‘mon now…” he mocks, “I’ve hardly started and you’re already fucked stupid.” He says, his eyes trained on the way you throw your ass back to his pelvis in time with his thrusts.

He suddenly pulls out, one hand still in your hair- holding to cheek to the pillow, the other massaging the flesh of your ass. You whine at the loss of feeling, your cunt spasming around nothing desperately. “W-what…p-please!” You cry out, trying your best to turn to look at him.

He pouts, but it just as quickly turns into a wicked grin. “Thought I broke ya sweetheart. You couldn’t even answer me…not sure you can take it…” He teased, it’s evil, downright sadistic.

He removes his hand from your hair, sitting back on his heels. Both his hands are on your ass, squeezing and releasing the plush flesh before spreading you open to get a perfect view of your cunt. Red, puffy, and messy with arousal it’s a sight that makes his cock twitch.

“N-no! I can take it I swear!” You plead looking over your shoulder. You watch as he licks his lips while looking at your pussy then divert his gaze up to your face. “Then answer me.” He says demanding his answer.

Your lips part to answer but you’re cut off by his thumbs rubbing over the sides of your pussy, stopping at your clit to rub small circles, a moan coming out in place of an answer. “I guess I have to repeat myself…” he muses with a chuckle, “You’re this wet all for me, hm?” He repeats.

“Yes! All for you! F-fuck, s’all for you.” You whine, your hips pushing back into his hands. He laughs to himself, spreading your cunt wider, muttering an “I know.”, his smirk audible, before dipping his head lower and attaching his mouth to your cunt, tongue diving into your warm walls before removing itself to play with your clit.

Before you can even push your hips back he sits up, running one of his hands up the curve of your ass before resting on your hip. The other holds the base of his cock, running his weeping head along your pussy.

You arch your back further, trying to push yourself back into him. He sinks into you , but only a few inches before pulling out, repeating the motion a couple times as he watches your cunt hold the shape of his cock, stretched open, before clenching around nothing. “You want it so bad, huh?” He pouts in a condescending tone and you nod your head, whining each time his tip enters you, stretching you before pulling out.

“Please! Please! Oh my god, I need it.” You plead as he slowly sinks even more of his cock into you. It’s a slow pace, one that has you convulsing and mewling.

“I’ve dreamt of being in this sweet fucking cunt since I saw you….I’m going to make sure you feel every inch…” he says sinking into your weeping pussy just a bit more, “every vein,” he says pushing in even deeper, “going to ruin your cunt for anyone else who even thinks to try and get with you.” He growls out, sinking balls deep into you finally.

You grip the pillows, you’re sure you probably ripped the fabric. You cry out a wanton moan feeling so entirely full. His thrusts are brutal and he’s relentless.

When his hand reaches around and begins to play with your clit you can’t help but to desperately throw your hips back in time with his thrust. His other hand removes itself from your hip. “Go on now…” he urges, watching how you keep up the movements he ceased, fucking yourself back on to him “That’s it….fuck!” He growls out, watching each time your ass connects with his pelvis.

You can feel yourself getting closer to your third orgasm of the night and the feeling is overwhelming. You keep crying out, your hips moving back on his in sloppy, jittery movements. You wanted to cum again so bad but you just couldn’t without him brutally thrusting into your cunt.

He seems to realize this and he chuckles darkly, he replaces his one hand on your hip, the other dancing along your clit in patterns that have your body jerking against him. “Wanna cum so bad don’t you…” he coos, leaning over you, his hips beginning to rock softly into you.

You cry out, nodding into the pillows. “Poor thing….”, he chides, “can’t do it without me helping you, huh?” He says, his breath fanning over the back of your neck, lips dancing along the shell of your ear.

“P-please.” You whimpered out, trying to turn your neck to look at him. He smiles, your begging only spurring him on to increase the force of his thrusts. They become hard and slow, dragging the length of his cock slowly out of your cunt with a moan of his own. “F-fuck…please! N-nam-Guy, p-please!” You cry out.

That seems to do the trick. The wanton plan of your name has him groaning and sitting back up from hovering over you. His hips drive into you at a force that has you surging forward and your eyes rolling back.

You can hear the filthy squelching sound of your pussy each time he bullies his cock into your tight entrance. His fingers that were on your clit messily dragging your arousal around. “Come on princess. I can feel you squeezing me, need to feel you cum again.” He growls through gritted teeth.

All you can do is nod and cry, your orgasm creeping up over you in a large tidal wave that you have no hope of fighting off. When his cock starts to hammer the spot inside you that has you choking out a cry of his name, his fingers rapidly drawing circles on your clit, you break.

You cum with a loud moan of his name, your cunt spasming around him so tightly that he is hurled towards his own orgasm without warning. He lets out a gasping moan of your name, driving his hips into yours with one final thrust and cumming deep inside you.

The force of your own orgasm has you shaking around him, clear liquid evidence of your orgasm is forced out of you, coating his cock and pelvis with your cum.

He lets our strangled breaths as you milk his cock for everything he had, his hips rolling into yours softly as you both ride out your highs.

You feel so good but so weak, you’re sure you would have collapsed onto the bed in a boneless heap if it wasn’t for his arm around your midsection keeping you up.

You sigh as you feel him lean down and place kisses up your spine and up the back of your neck. “Did so good f’me.” He mumbles breathlessly against the back of your ear. “Mhm..” you whine in response, shivering against him.

He slowly pulls out of you, his arm staying wrapped under you to keep upright. You nearly sob at the feeling of his cock pulling out of your pussy and his cum that drips out of your red and puffy cunt.

You hear him hiss, watching it. He’s addicted. His fingers lift up, catching the trail of his cum drilling out of your cunt that threatens to drop to your sheets. Smearing it around your pussy, his fingers dipping in to your entrance to fuck the rest of it back into you with a few slow pumps.

You whine, so utterly overstimulated. He shushes you, “I know, sweet thing..”, he says pulling his fingers from you and leaning into place a kiss on your clit. “Couldn’t let you be so wasteful…” he murmurs against your pussy before pulling back.

He sits back up, leaning over you. “I’m gonna help you turn around okay?” He says softly, you nod weakly in response. He carefully pulls you onto your back and laying you down on the bed. You don’t even realize he departed from the bed and went to the bathroom for a towel before he’s wiping you both down, discarding the towel and returning back to the bed near to you.

“I really did a number on ya, huh?” He says, his elbow propped up on the pillow and his chin on his palm. You’re lying on your back, still haven’t moved from where he left you. You narrow your eyebrows and pout, a fake scowl. He laughs at your pathetic attempt at seeming mad, your laugh soon echoing his and it has his chest swelling with an electric warmth.

“Yeah ya did.” You admit shamelessly, turning on your side towards him looking up at him. He laughs, “Oh, I know.” He says proudly, making you laugh again. He throws an arm over your shoulder, pulling you next to him.

He kisses your forehead, the arm around your shoulder pulling you closer. “I waited way too long for that.” You say, your head moving to rest on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat. It’s cute the way you hear it speed up when you nuzzle your head on his chest and begin to draw light patterns on his stomach.

He chuckles in response, “Well I suppose third times a charm.” He says, reaching down to pull the blankets that were piled up on the edge of your bed over the two of you- no way we’re both of yall getting up to get under the sheets and comforter.

You look up at him from your spot on his chest, a smile on your face. “And you’re staying the night? Oh what a gentleman.” You joke, cuddling closer into him. “Uh yeah…duh.” He says in a teasing tone, squeezing you into him, “and tomorrow, if you let me, I’d like to take you out to breakfast….or lunch…whenever we get up.” He says, with a small laugh, his arm now beginning to trace light shapes on your arm.

“Y-yeah I’d like that.” You say, you can’t even hide the smile in your words. “Good, now get some sleep. You’ll need it you’ll be sore in the morning.” You hit his chest at his words and he laughs, wrapping his other arm around you to cage you into him. He begins to pepper kisses along the top of your head and down to your face causing you to giggle. And he swears that’s your laugh is a sound he will never get tired of hearing.

Needless to say, you went to bed excited to see where you two went for food and what the future held for this odd partnership that was, very thankfully, catapulted into your life.

Thank you guys for all the support during this series. It is unbelievable how much love this got! I'm so excited to continue writing! I have a lot of ideas and things in the works and am so so so excited to share them with you all!!! my inbox is open for requests for one-shots or drabbles! much love <3 kiwi

Tag List: @heyitsayjayy , @chxrrybomb22 , @ziallgff , @ametheslime , @hornyfordaryldixon , @risingofjupiter , @h3artz4soph , @godly-sinsx , @gurofushi , @shad0wcast , @thearsonistrat , @sollum , @onmycloudyet , @matthewpatel4life , @tashiagalinda , @knxfesup , @skibidirizzzlerrr

[ebsmind]

⏾ MEET ME AT MIDNIGHT | jack hughes x singer!reader smau

summary : trying to struggle releasing a new album and doing press can be too much, are people starting to speculate that it’s taking a toll on your relationship?

warning(s) : break up mentions (poor reader 😕), a couple of cuss words i think idk,

a/n : AHHHH HERES THE FIRST CHAPTER i’m so excited to start this series!! i did create this series around midnight (if the shows fits) and i just knew i needed to get this first chapter out ASAP so here it is!!! im taking each chapter slow and steady since ive never done any type of series before. i also wanted to lyk that each chapter is named after a song but most won’t have a lot of correlation to the songs! also ik jack isn’t in this one (spoiler sorry) but he will soon! i promise i have a vision 😋 i hope yall enjoy and i love you!

series masterlist

liked by taylorswift, gracieabrams, vincedunn and others

ynuser surprise! Midnights out on october 21st! 🌌💜✨

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user1 OMG OMG OMG ITS HAPPENINGGGGGGG

user2 CLAIMING LABYRINTH

taylorswift So proud of you my little bird!! Thank you for having me featured on an amazing album 💜

❤️ by author

user3 sweet nothing is def about vince 😋

yourbestfriendsuser she put blood, sweat, and tears into this!!! ya'll better not do her dirty EVERRRRRR

| ynuser clock it

user4 the album cover EATSSSSS

user5 DOES THIS MEAN UR GOING ON TOUR???

gracieabrams OMG (i knew about this for months)

| ynuser the best secret keeper EVER

yourmomsuser So proud you honey!!

| ynuser i love you mom!❤️

user6 taylor being featured on snow on the beach YESSSSSS

user7 KARMA IS MINEEEE

sabrinacarpenter ALBUM OF THE YEAR I FEAR???

❤️ by author

user8 what’s it like carrying the music industry on ur back queen?

| ynuser i need to see a chiropractor immediately

vincedunn 💜💙

on the Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon…

liked by jimmyfallon, vincedunn, taylorswift and others

ynuser kicking off midnights press with the best tv host ever!!

tagged : @/jimmyfallon

view comments

jimmyfallon It was great having you on the show!

❤️ by author

user1 a duo i didn’t know i needed

user2 sweet nothings being the first song written and with vince 🥹

vincedunn sick asf babe!!

user3 i can’t wait another week for this album OMG

user4 why hasn’t she been liking vince’s comments :(

| user5 oh bye that is not our business

user6 her writing all the songs around midnight I LOVE THIS WOMAN

user7 am i the only one that notices that her eyes don’t light up anymore when she or anyone mentions vince???

| user8 oh ur REACHING

liked by yourbestfriendsuser, yourmomsuser, vincedunn and others

ynuser breaking news! Midnights is out now! maybe stay up until 3am for a little surprise!

view comments

user1 I LOVE THIS ALBUM SO MUCH

user2 u took my heart out of my chest and squeezed it with ur bare head with YOYOK

taylorswift Congratulations!! I can’t wait to see you at the Grammy’s this year 😉

user3 crying this is my album

user4 SNOW ON THE BEACH WITH TAYLOR??? EATSSSSS

yourbestfriendsuser TIME TO GET OUR SPARKLY DRESSES ONNNNNN

user5 we want more taylor pls

user6 KARMA IS THE GUY ON THE SCREEN COMING STRAIGHT HOME TO ME 💃💃💃

yourrecordlabel 🔥🔥

user7 bejeweled is THAT GIRLLLLL

user8 wait vince wasn’t at the midnights release party??

| user9 omg they better not have broken up istg

| user10 let’s not spread false information….

user11 THE OUTFITS CHANGES HAHAHA

| ynuser listen…i couldn’t decide

liked by yourmomsuser, vincedunn, _quinnhughes and others

ynuser cats out of the bag!! i wrote an extra 7 songs and created a 2nd version of my album ✨ welcome Midnights (3am Edition) 💜

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[archangeldyke-all]

Omg, part 2 of sevika x masc reader, childhood friends to lovers pleaseeee!!! It's so cute I love it omggg, okay imma give a scenario, they're aged up now, but still teens, and they do badass, and mischievous shit, and maybe it's their idea of a first date heh ☺️ You're amazing angel, I love theseee!!!

HEHEHEHEHEH i'm so glad u guys like this one, i was a tomboy as a kid and writing this story is healing something inside me

men and minors dni

sevika gives you a skeptical look. "and you're sure it'll work?"

you huff and roll your eyes. sevika thinks that because she's got a year on you she knows everything. "would you just trust me?"

"i just don't wanna give you an infection and be the reason you die or something."

you giggle and lean forward, kissing her worried frown. "that's why we got the alcohol-- to sanitize everything. and we run the needles through a flame before, too-- it kills the germs."

sevika's still squinting skeptically, but at least now she's blushing from the kiss.

you roll your eyes. "i'll let you do me first, if you're so nervous." you offer. sevika finally smiles. you grin and pull your shirt off.

sevika's staring right at your tits when you fling your shirt away. you giggle, and she kicks you in embarrassment. "you've seen them before, baby."

"i-i just-- shut up!" sevika huffs, pushing you down onto your back. you laugh, blinking up at the twinkling multicolored lights of your hideout.

you feel your own nervous embarrassment grow as sevika straddles your waist and stares down at your chest. she's heavy and warm and firm, and she's blinking down at you with her gorgeous silver eyes, a nervous glimmer behind them as she looks at you.

"okay." sevika whispers. "where do you want it?" she asks.

you grin and tap the top of your left tit. "right over my heart. duh."

sevika rolls her eyes. "that's so fucking corny." she whines. you grin.

"yeah, well, where are you gonna put yours?" you ask.

sevika's eyes dart away from yours and she mumbles. "s-same place, i guess."

you take one big swig off the bottle you'd stolen before handing it to sevika and letting her begin her work.

she gently soaks a cotton pad in the alcohol, wipes your chest clean. she sets up the supplies on your stomach, paper towels and ink and packaged needles. and when she's finally ready, she leans down and presses her lips to your chest, her black lipstick leaving a perfect kiss mark over your heart.

you giggle in excitement, then jump at the first poke of her needle. sevika pouts.

"does it hurt?" she asks, worried. you shrug. she tsks and smacks your shoulder. "don't move!"

you giggle. "it... just feels like a lot of scratches happening at once."

sevika hums along to the music you've got playing on the radio as she works, and you stare up at her, simply admiring your best friend.

when you'd asked a few weeks ago if sevika'd ever get a tattoo, her answer was a hard 'no.' she hates needles, and she's not really an artistic type.

but once you told her your idea for the one you wanted-- a permanent reminder of her love, her kiss etched into your skin for eternity-- sevika seemed enchanted with the idea.

which is how you ended up here. it takes a long time, and by the end, the top of your tit feels like it's on fire. but still, it's all worth it for the smile it pulls out of sevika when she admires her handiwork.

when she hands you a mirror and lets you look, you tear up a bit.

"wh--what?! do you regret it, did i do it wrong!?"

you laugh as you sit up and wrap sevika in a hug, nuzzling your nose against the crook of her neck and shoulder. "i love you." you say shakily. "it's perfect."

sevika sighs and kisses your head. "well, don't fuckin' cry, i need your vision clear so you don't fuck up mine." she huffs, kissing you one more time before flopping onto her back and unbuttoning her own shirt. you giggle and start collecting the supplies for sevika's tattoo.

she helps you apply her lipstick to your own lips-- you don't trust yourself to make it pretty-- the most makeup you ever wear is the remnants of sevika's that gets smudged onto your skin during a makeout session.

she giggles when she finishes applying the lipstick. "you look good."

you grin. "yeah? should i get my own tube of black?"

sevika rolls her eyes. "it's not black, it's coffee brown. i'm not, like, emo, or anything." you raise a disbelieving eyebrow at your girlfriend and she huffs in embarrassment. "whatever. just hurry up and kiss me already."

you laugh, bending down to press one clean, perfect kiss to her tit. when you pull away, you grin at your mark, then bend down to barrage her face with sloppy, uncorrdinated kisses. sevika squeals and bursts into laughter, half-heartedly shoving you away.

"close your eyes." you demand as you pick up a clean needle for her. sevika huffs.

"i wanna watch. you got to make goo-goo eyes at me the whole time."

you snort. "you're scared of needles, dummy, so close your eyes. you can stare at me when we've got you all tatted up and matching me."

sevika huffs and closes her eyes.

you feel bad poking your girlfriend so repeatedly, especially when she's clearly cringing in pain. but, once you get into the groove of it, sevika relaxes, and eventually she's asleep underneath you.

you giggle, kissing sevika's cheek to wake her up when you're finished.

she wakes up with a snort, and then she breaks into a grin. "d'ya finish?" she asks.

you hand her the mirror, watching in anticipation for your girlfriend's reaction.

sevika grins and bursts into laughter, before tossing the mirror away and pulling you down to kiss her. you hum happily against her lips.

"this means we're for real best friends forever now. y' can't lose a tattoo like you lost our friendship bracelet." sevika says. you cackle.

"how long are you gonna hold that over me?! i didn't mean to lose it-- i was eight!"

"i was only nine and i kept mine in perfect condit--" you cut her off with a kiss.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @vkumi @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth

taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys

[myonexox]

I NEED YOU

pairing : boyfriend!riki x female!reader

the muffled voices of your parents’ argument leaked through the thin walls of your room, growing louder with every passing second. they were fighting, again. you pressed your hands harder against your headphones, hoping the music would drown out their voices but it wasn’t working. you couldn’t make out what they were saying but it didn’t matter. the tone was enough to make your chest tighten and your eyes sting.

you were curled up on your bed, knees pulled to your chest with a blanket wrapped tightly around you. your cheeks were damp with tears and no matter how many times you wiped them away, they kept coming. hot, silent, endless.

your phone lay beside you, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. you stared at it, the thought of reaching out to someone clawing at the edges of your mind. your fingers trembled as you picked it up, hesitating before opening the chat with him, riki, your boyfriend.

you: riki, can we meet? i can’t stay here anymore

the message hung there, delivered but not yet read. you bit your lip, anxiety curling in your stomach as you waited. each second felt like an eternity. finally, the little bubble indicating he was typing appeared.

riki: where are you?

you: home

riki: can you go out?

your heart raced as you read his reply. you couldn't let your parents find out. no, they wouldn't allow you to go out so late at night. so you had no choice but to sneak out. sneaking out wasn’t something you usually did but tonight, the thought of staying in your room, in this house filled with arguments and tension was unbearable. you took a deep breath and typed back.

you: i’ll meet you at the park

riki: on my way. be careful

you set your phone down and stared at the window. the night was dark, the faint glow of the streetlights casting shadows on your bedroom walls. you pulled the blanket off and stood. quietly, you moved to the window, pushing it open just enough to let the cool night air rush in.

climbing out wasn’t easy. the sill was narrow and your hands fumbled as you tried to grip it. but desperation gave you courage and soon you were on the other side, your feet landing softly on the grass below. the world outside was silent, a stark contrast to the chaos inside.

pulling your hoodie tighter around you, you started walking. when you reached the park, you spotted riki sitting on a bench. he looked up as you approached, his expression softening when he saw you.

“hey” he said, standing and walking toward you. his hands found yours, his touch warm despite the chill in the air. “are you okay?”

the question undid you. the tears you thought you had cried out came rushing back and before you knew it, you were sobbing into his chest. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as you broke down.

“i… i couldn’t stay” you managed between sobs. “they were yelling again and i just… i couldn’t take it anymore”

“shh” he murmured, his hand gently stroking your hair. “it’s okay. you’re here now. i’ve got you”

for a while, neither of you said anything. he just held you, his presence grounding you in a way nothing else could. when your breathing finally steadied, you pulled back slightly, looking up at him.

“thank you for coming” you said.

he smiled, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “you don’t have to thank me. i’d come running anytime you need me. you know that”

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i know”

he led you to the bench and the two of you sat down.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asked, his voice gentle.

you hesitated. part of you didn’t want to relive the night but another part of you knew you needed to let it out. “they’ve been fighting a lot lately” you said finally. “it’s like they’re always angry at each other. i don’t even remember the last time the house felt… peaceful”

he listened quietly, his gaze fixed on you.

“i feel like i’m stuck” you continued, your voice trembling. “like there’s nothing i can do to make it better. and it hurts, riki. it hurts so much”

“you don’t have to fix it” he said. “it’s not your responsibility. all you need to do is take care of yourself. and i’ll be here to help you with that. okay?”

“okay” you said, giving him a small smile.

he smiled, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before he let go and wrapped an arm around your shoulders instead. “come on” he said, tilting his head toward the swings. “let’s do something to get your mind off things”

you raised an eyebrow. “like what?”

“like swinging” he said, standing and pulling you up with him. “trust me it’ll help”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re serious?”

“dead serious” he said, grinning. “come on”

you followed him to the swings.

as the swings slowed to a gentle sway, you and riki stayed seated, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“do you feel a little better now?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah. thanks for this, riki. i really needed it”

he grinned, leaning back slightly on his swing. “anytime. you know i’m always here for you, right?”

“i know” you said softly, your fingers tracing the cold metal chain of the swing. “and i appreciate it more than you know”

[medullamindset]

STEB HEADCANONS :>

Uhhhm YEAH a few headcanons ive collected since act 3 came out in november 😸 enjoy Stebnation, or dont idk

This is very short and boring but its easier to write him in an actual scenario so TRUST IN ME MY UPCOMING STUFF WILL BE BETTER 😿

Content warnings: Established relationship w Reader, miiiild mention of knifeplay but its easily looked past. My opinion on his race.

NSFW marked this pink!

• He cannot be any older than 30. I'd bet hes like 23-27. Idk how old u have to be to be a field medic/enforcer??

• Hes around 6'4.. Tall guy. ♥︎‿♥︎

• His frill thingies seem to lie flat to his face with "down" emotions, such as shame/guilt and sadness. But they point straight out with more intense emotions, like suspense, anger, exitement, worry. I love the way they flutter sometimes, as a subtle reaction. Like when they saw the Zaunites walking over the bridge to aid in the war, his frills were like "oh, wow.."

But also how they shot straight out with suspense when Ambessa wanted Caitlyn to b commander and everyone was banging their chests and stuff.

• I'd like to imagine his frills flutter a few times in a row when he orgasms, like the shockwaves of pleasure, but also post-orgasm. Maybe they go hand in hand with his nervous system kinda?

• His tip is the same color as his eyelids. His nails seem to be beige too.

• He CAN talk he just chooses not to if he feels he doesnt need to. Short sentences if he has to, small nods and shakes of his head, LOOKS. his face is VERY expressive, but thats more of a fact than a hc. body language is a key communication of his.

• Hes def always been the quiet type, ever since he was six he hasn't been big on speaking.

But sometimes you cheat the system.. Having your back turned to him when you ask him a question just so you can hear his voice, even just to get a little "mhm" from him <3

• On the rare occasion that he does speak his voice is kinda hoarse and gravelly from lack of use UGHHHH *squirts everywhere*

• hes a bit of a "bland" person, hes not boring.. Just a very simple man. He reads practically anything, carries your bags when you're out shopping, he literally just goes wherever you wanna go. He hangs over your shoulders when you do ur makeup, cooks breakfast most mornings, cleans when he feels its needed cuz he doesn't like messes, he'll have music on in the background tho and it's usually one of your vinyls that's playing, makes him feel closer to you <3

Simple things man. deeply emotional and caring too. Hes so kind and eager to help ugh MY SHAYLAA.

• hes a bit socially awkward, he doesnt have social anxiety, hes just kinda stiff and quiet around people.

• what the fuck does he do all day, really?

• I feel like he'd like dancing with his lover but he thinks hes bad at it so hes a bit awkward <333 put his hands around ur waist for him tho and he'd turn into even more speechless mush, everytime.

• Has a gummy smile thats really evident when he laughs so he tries not too, might let a grin slip in private tho c: and close mouthed chuckling/snickers.

• Loves being carressed, hold his face in your hands and trace his cheekbones with ur thumbs? FOLDS. Running your fingers up and down the fins at the back of his head when his face is in your neck? PUTTY.

• Speaking of fins, they continue down to to his lower back, shorter at the bottom but longest between his shoulderblades. He also has darker spots(scales?) Like the other fishfolk in Arcane on his outer arms and thighs. See this post of mine for a ref :)

• he drinks alot of water, like ALOT. his throat get dry easily cuz hes.. Yk, fish.. Atleast half-fish. He'll remind his partner to do the same, no matter your race cuz its good for u, he'll nudge u with a glass in hand and a small tug at his lips, or simply just leave it beside u as a silent reminder.

• Loves holding hands. like, he just LOVES it. He'll act nonchalant abt it but on the inside his heart is just blossoming 💗

Like imagine you're at a café or a bar or a diner WHATEVER and ur just sitting infront of him yapping abt ur day or smth ur planning while holding his hand over the table, and he'll just be buzzing with love, rubbing your soft skin with his thumb, feeling lucky his blush doesnt show (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)

• ABSOLUTELY ADORES kisses. He just finds them so sweet and intimate (cuz they are. But i mean like, he doesn't ever NOT think about it after kissing you, hes always locked on target y'know, he only sees you. He only feels you when kissing your lips, he'll kiss u like its the end of the world.. even if hes just getting up to go to the bathroom or something.)

• he just loves you so much, please kiss him, everywhere. Theres not a single spot of him you could kiss that wouldn't make him shiver (the good way).

• Steb is not much for hardcore kinks in bed. He doesnt "fuck", he makes love. In his eyes there truly isnt any purer form of intimacy than sharing something like that, giving away a piece of yourself to this person, your souls spiritually intertwined and yadiyadayada (it's true tho)

• He will go harder if you ask him to, hes not afraid to make you scream with pleasure. Also, bite him and hes a goner. Omg if hes like treating u so nicely in the sack you gotta bite down on something to contain yourself, pls let it be his shoulder, please leave pretty imprints of you canines all over his neck and chest. And hickeys too HNNGHH

Makes him groan so deliciously. Hips snapping into yours just a liiiittle more harshly than intended.

He'll bite you back carnally if you'll let him, Steb gets so lost in it sometimes..

• Hes open to experimentation tho, like if theres something you reallyreallyreally wanna try he'll be like 'euuughgghggggrhggh okay yk what fine', as long as he doesn't have to hurt you, not too much anyway. The idea of inflicting pain-pain on the person he loves makes him queasy.

• But if hes really fucking horny at some point, watching you take the front seat and play around w his gills, scratch at his chest, put a hand around his neck or.. Idk drag a knife gently across his skin while topping he'll literally whine, digging his dull nails into your sides, holding on for dear life.

• He loves being called petnames. Serious and silly ones. His favorites have gotta be Love, Darling, Baby and pretty boy.. All the sappy stuff. One time you called him 'Gorgeous' and his frills shot straight out for a solid three seconds.. If he already didn't speak, he'd be speechless then. CUZ HES A GORGEOUS MAN.

Or that one time you called him 'fishface' and he just slumped in defeat when he heard you giggle, knowing that one was gonna stick around.

You'll enter the kitchen where hes making something to eat and just go "Hey, Fishface! So--!" Continuing to yap and he just rolls his eyes with a lopsided, lovesick grin u cant see from behind him. From anybody else it'd piss him off, but it's you, So he lets it slide.

• he has the warmest and weirdly softest fuckin hands ever. They're never clammy or sticky, just nice and toasty, perfect.

• is the type to grab your hands in the winter and rub them if theyre cold, trying to transfer his warmth over, even if hes also freezing. breathing hotly onto them.

• speaking of winter he probably HATES IT. He gets SO cold SO easy, hes shaking in his boots fr. A frozen fishstick fr. Like jesus. But the palms of his hands stay warm for some reason..

adding to that hes def a sweater fiend.. He LOVES knitted sweaters and hoodies and TURTLENECKS. HE'D LOOK SO GOOD IN A TURTLENECK. TELL ME IM WRONG. LIKE A BIG, FAT, KNITTED ONE THAT GOES UP TO HIS JAW. Even better if you knit/crocheted them for him <33

• I headcanon that his dad is a human and his mom is a fish person cuz he has hair and rounded teeth which other fishfolk we see don't. We don't see any other fishfolk from piltover tho.. So maybe hes just slapped on a wig, peel-off eyebrows and filed his teeth down (which is INSANELY painful btw) to look "socially acceptable". I HEAVILY doubt that, when i rascism like that ever shown in Arcane, Piltover specifically? 🤔 Im not even gonna get into that whole Vastaya thing cuz i dont know enough.. I heard they can decide how many animal features they show as they please and that they're like deeply connected to magic and live really long.. But that isn't mentioned or even nodded to in Arcane so im just gonna pretend that doesnt exist lol sorry

• but ya he adopted alot of his moms fishy features but also human-ish hair and teeth from his dad.

•speaking of his parents, i do feel like Steb was raised kinda strictly? Idk i just feel like his parents would be very uptight and that stuck with him all the way into adulthood, he stands super upright and is well proper while on the job because thats just what hes been taught.

hes alot more relaxed at home tho, where he knows he doesn't have to be or look presentable for anyone, especially not you. he knows you'll love him even while standing by the fridge in pj's, with a fist full of grated cheese ready to be devoured at circa 2 AM.

• He was raised in a small village on the outskirts, right beside the ocean. Hence he still adores it and loves to go swimming with you, reminds him of his childhood yk c:

• He kinda gives only child vibes to me? Idk the thought of him with an older sibling is kinda cute tho,, i imagine they'd be like complete opposites. They hardly see eachother,, I don't feel like his family lives in Piltover. He had a "Mom, Dad.. I'm 18 now..! I'm moving to the big city. And there is nothing you can do to stop me." Moment, exept in a less verbal way maybe, moving to the city of progress and begining medical and tactical training, to help people. On both sides.

• Hes really good at origami, sometimes when hes at work and droning at his desk with nothing better to do he'll just grab a random paper and fold a little swan together. You've found multiple critters like that scattered around the house, some with faces drawn on, just two inky dots and a derpy smile like this : )

Once he made one of your favorite animal and left it on your nightstand before heading to work, you picked it up and examined it, smile growing even wider when you found the hidden lovenote that was written on it <3

It's now glued neatly into your shared scrapbook/journal along with many more, surrounded by dried flowers and red hearts <33

Uhhhhhhhhhhhrghhhhhhhhhh yeah ❗️🚮 i just debated wether or not this is even worth posting for like twenty minutes.

Pls dont bash me for my opinions now *gulp*

Also heres a lil reminder that im taking requests 💗💗 i love writing i just never have good or original ideas :'o(

[kykyonthemoon]

7 Days the mini-series

About this series: ✈️

Day 05: Sunshower

I was used to just him and me, always together. However, as we grew older, our own worlds expanded, and more people came.

I didn't think about it until one day.

That day, I headed to Caleb's school after class. We went to school and returned home together day by day. There was going to be a volleyball tournament between high schools in the district, so he often had to stay after class to practice. I chose a good spot in the grandstand, and finding him among the players on the field was not a problem to me at all.

Whether it was studying or playing sports, I loved seeing him putting all his mind into it. Occasionally, he would glance towards the stands, then smile when he saw me there. When he scored, I wouldn’t hesitate to stand up and scream: “YAYYY!!! CALEB YOU'RE SO COOL!!!” And every time, his teammates would constantly make fun of him till his ears turned crimson.  While in the stands, the girls in the upper grades would glance and me and whispered:

“Who is that girl?”

“I don’t know. She must be crazy about Caleb…”

“Who wouldn’t like him? Caleb is so handsome, and kind!”

“OMG!!! He’s staring at us!!!”

A few seats ahead of me, the females began to conceal their faces and laugh among themselves. I had no idea why my stomach felt uneasy. I sat down and remained silent throughout the practice that day.

Of course, Caleb didn't understand what upset me so much. Even I could not know what it was. I was too young to start dating, yet old enough to acknowledge the most beautiful emotions of my youth were blossoming. Every afternoon, I waited for Caleb at the sports court before we came home together. And every afternoon, I caught him surrounded by so many other girls.

There was no doubt how popular he was at school. I should be happy for him, since he was everyone's favorite. Yet why could I not get rid of this uncomfortable feeling in my heart? Was it because I was used to being the only one by his side? Was it because I disliked the idea of sharing him with anyone else?

That day, after his practice, I saw Caleb talking to a classmate. She was proposing that they take a stroll home together, it seemed. My fists clenched, head bowed, I walked away. There was a tint of soreness on my nose.

After a while, I heard Caleb calling my name. My feet didn't stop, they wanted to go even faster. He caught up with me and took hold of my wrist.

"Pip-squeak? You didn't wait for me today?"

His naïve expression infuriated me even more. I pulled my hand away from him and replied:

"Go home with her."

Every step I made now vented the path that had done nothing wrong. Caleb casually strolled beside me and said:

"Who? Is there anyone else other than the two of us?"

He took notice of my silence, then pulled my hand to stop me. “Come on. Tell me, what have I done wrong?”

The radiant smile on his lips forced me into the situation where I failed to keep my poker face. I pouted and gave him an unkind cheek squeeze, saying:

“Stop smiling.”

“On't ou ike it en I ile?" (Don't you like it when I smile?)

Caleb said as I rubbed his cheeks to let out my sulking though he did not do anything wrong. That very moment, it began to rain, even though the golden sun was still shining brightly.

“Oh, a sunshower?…”

“This is also known as fox rain. Legend has it that when it’s both sunny and raining, it’s the time for the fox to welcome his bride. But our Gran said that this type of weather indicates a quarrel between the Sun God and the Rain God.” Caleb explained and turned to face me. “It seems that you are mad at me too, pip-squeak. I'm not sure what I did wrong, but... could you kindly forgive me??”

I didn’t answer right away, yet the smile on my lips gave him the answer. I held his hand in mine and we continued walking on the long path.

“Caleb… Will you… date someone else in the future?”

“Huh? Dating? Why are you curious about it?”

“Well… I was just thinking… When I grow up a little more and you’re not with anyone, I… I will be your date... Is that alright?”

Our hand squeezed, he grinned, as bright as the sun and the rainbow in the rain in front of our path home.

[linosaurus-ikuklk]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Bang Chan - I'm Yours, Always.

Summary: After a tiring season of continuous work loads, your best friend Changbin invites you to a 3-days vacation at a beachside villa. But dread follows you until then when you found out that your ex-situationship was coming too.

Genre: Romance

Trope: Ex-situationships (cuz what else would it be?), Second Chance, Fluff, Angst (if your mind wanders on its own about their backstory)

Word Count: 3.2k

Notes: This one is a oneshot because this came up in my head while listening to---obviously, "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz while I was in the middle of preparing myself for second semester. I had the song on repeat for about a week now and I'm not stopping any sooner. This is not 100% proofread too so... heh. This may not be a lot but I hope you like it~!

A week ago, you’ve been praying—begging even—to God to let you have a break from your exhausting, tedious job as an office worker. The job could get very demanding, especially with the loads and loads of paperwork you had to proofread and edit. If you could only crash out, like you would during elementary if you didn’t like the subject, you would’ve done it already. But without a doubt, that would cost you your only job and only source of income.

God is good and your prayers have been answered through the way of your tooth-rottingly sweet best friend, Seo Changbin. He didn’t have to aegyo his way in to convince you, one paragraph message was enough to get you to come with him and your other friends to a retreat at a beachside villa. 

“Tell me you’re already done preparing.”

You saw the notification that popped up on your screen, the nickname “Dwaekki” disappearing after a few seconds. You checked and read it with a scoff puffing out of you. 

“I think I’m the most excited about this. I’ve already packed two days ago.”

Glancing at your suitcase sized backpack, you smirked, knowing it’s not you who’s going to be carrying that. It was very intentional since all of those boys were getting their muscles ripped, why not give it something to do other than impressing the ladies?

What were you even carrying in that bag? A bunch of clothes? Dang, you have 5 dresses and 3 pairs of bikinis. Not only that, you have a lot of things to enjoy while you’re there. Food, board games, and a thick book you’ve been trying to read for the past year. 

“You should see Chan, he’s already in the villa.”

You frowned, immediately typing in a message. Your heart thumping a little harder. 

“I thought he’s not coming?”

To say things had been weird between you and Chan lately was an understatement. You’d been close once—the kind of close where he’d text you after a long day just to check in, where he’d look for you in the crowd during a performance and shoot you a small, private smile. But then life got busy. For him, at least. And for you? Well, you’d gotten used to not hearing from him anymore. Mostly.

“Idk what changed his mind.” “We’re outside, you need help with your bag?”

The ride to the villa wasn’t so bad. Aside from your legs being cramped up from all the other baggage the guys decided to bring, you enjoyed singing and playing games with the guys.

But your mind wandered to Chan every now and then. You wanted to be comfortable as much as you can in this vacation and you’re beginning to doubt it when you found out that he’s in too. Are you even going to be able to sit in the same room without hating yourself for staring at him even if you didn’t intend to? How are you even going to react when he’s sitting beside you? Are you going to scurry away and cringe or just sit there like you’re not affected by his mere presence, whatsoever?

Still, when you arrived at the villa and saw him standing by the front door, his hair tousled by the salty breeze, you couldn’t stop the way your stomach flipped. He spotted you instantly, his eyes lighting up with that familiar warmth.

“You came,” he said, stepping forward to grab one of your bags before you could protest. His dimpled smile was every bit as devastating as you remembered. You forced a small smile, your gaze fixed on the ground, only glancing up at him for a mere millisecond, showing him a slight—and unbearably awkward smile of gratitude before following Changbin and Minho inside. 

The night came in a few hours and when you finally came out of your room—after giving yourself enough time to focus on just enjoying your vacation—you saw that the boys had already set a campfire in the sand. You joined them by helping Minho and Yongbok with grilling the lamb chops. Seungmin sang in the background as Jisung played his guitar while the others did the finishing touches to the tents they were setting up.

Minho goes inside to get the other foods and Felix goes to get the utensils, leaving you with the responsibility of trying not to burn the precious meat. You were pretty focused, counting down the remaining minute it should stay on that side to cook when suddenly, someone takes the tongs from you. Looking up, you almost kicked the grill down when you saw Chan but seeing that it’s not rational, you only frowned at him before fixing your gaze back down to the lamb chops as he moved them around.

“What are you doing? Minho said that it should stay like that for one more minute,” you said but he only chuckles lightly at you, so light that it plays with the strings of your heart which makes you want to jump at him and straight up beat him for still doing this to you. For fluttering you with the barest minimum.

“It’s been more than a minute,” he turns the lamb chops to their other side to cook, glancing at you with a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You didn’t do anything to argue and let him do the job, he’s an expert anyway. You wiped your dirty hands on the back of your pants as you backed away quietly. “You cooked these well,” he comments, making you stop from escaping his excruciating presence. 

“No, Minho and Felix did most of the job…” you trailed off, glancing inside the house to see if any of the two were coming back. “I just helped with the seasoning.”

Your voice was quiet and had an obvious hint of unease in it, making Chan grit his jaw and just nod without looking. He lets you slip away and make your way to Hyunjin who was decorating the place with fairy lights. But even with the task at hand, his gaze was on you. 

Why did he let this happen? After all the things that happened between the both of you—if anything really did happen—why did he let it wear away with time?

Once everything was settled, all of you sat in a circle to eat. It was peaceful at first, just casually praising the chef—Minho and Chan—and remembering the time when Jisung and Yongbok had to cook for them. That was until Changbin brought up the ultimate debate: which is better, the pool or the ocean?

It was a one-on-eight argument, with Minho being the only one to side on the pool while he argued mostly with Hyunjin. “Why would I willingly swim somewhere I can’t see what’s underneath me? Something could just crawl up and—” He shuddered dramatically, cutting himself off.

“So dramatic,” Hyunjin snorted, letting the irony slide past himself, throwing a marshmallow at him. “The ocean is better. You can float and feel at one with nature.”

Minho caught the marshmallow mid-air. “Yeah, until a jellyfish shows up and ‘one with nature’ turns into ‘one with the ER.’” He shoves the treat in his mouth.

The conversation spiraled until Seungmin, who had been quietly observing the chaos, decided to end it. He leaned forward, his face neutral, and delivered his final verdict: “Doesn’t matter. Either way, there’s still a chance you’ll drown and die.”

The silence lasted two full beats before everyone burst out laughing. Even Minho couldn’t keep a straight face, muttering under his breath, “I hate how he’s not wrong.” 

And as the laughter kept on erupting while the others added more things to laugh at, your eyes caught Chan’s as they looked at you with the same softness he used to before he became distant and a smile that could bring vibrant colors to your eyes. It made you shudder, your smile faltering as you looked away.

What is he trying to do now? Dimple his way back to you like he did before? He left you hanging on something you thought that was there and it sure did take a lot from you to let go of it. Are you going to fall for the same thing that made you doubt yourself and even others in the end?

That night, while you were trying to sleep inside your tent, it occurred to you that maybe he was just trying to be civil. Maybe you were the one who gave all the wrong meanings to those things before. Maybe you’re just being too rough on him right now. So you decided to treat him with respect, without recoiling from his presence.

The next morning, you woke up before everyone else. You hadn’t planned to—but between the excitement of being here and the not-so-quiet snores coming from Jeongin’s tent, sleep had decided it wasn’t your friend. So, you grabbed a hoodie and wandered outside, where the early sun painted the sky in soft hues of pink and orange.

You made your way outside, the sand tickling the sole of your feet. You weren’t expecting to see anyone else. Which is why your heart nearly leapt out of your chest when you heard the gentle strum of a guitar. And there he was: Bang Chan, sitting cross-legged on the sand, barefoot and completely lost in his own world.

“You’re up early,” he said when he noticed you, his voice carrying that low, soothing tone you’d missed way too much. The slight adrenaline that was rushing through your body finally soothed when you saw how natural he looked. How his face is still slightly puffy from sleep and his hair tousled by the wind.

You let your walls come down just for a bit and let yourself be vulnerable around him in a way that was too subtle for him to feel. “I couldn’t miss this view,” you replied, gesturing vaguely at the ocean. You let your eyes be blessed with his beauty, the pinkish tips of his fingers gently strumming the chords as he looked back at you. You notice he was staring because you’re too busy admiring him, but he was looking at you with the same endearing, sparkling eyes. 

How you looked so beautiful with the sun kissing your skin. Your hair was being blown by the wind in directions that make you look like an angel, a blessing sent from heaven. And your eyes, how they stared down at him like they could make him do the most desperate things in the world—only to have them stay like that when you would meet his gaze.

Questions popped in his mind, those that he wondered for the past days. Questions he missed to ask you on a regular basis. How have you been? Are you resting well? Why are you letting yourself drown in too much work?

He grinned, tilting his head. “You mean the sunrise, or…?” You rolled your eyes, but your face heated up anyway. Typical Chan.

He started playing a soft, familiar melody—I’m Yours. And before you knew it, you were humming along, your voice blending with his as you sat a foot away from him. It was effortless, like no time had passed. Like you’d always been meant to find your way back to this moment. Find your way back to him.

And before either of you even knew it, the tangled strings were beginning to unravel. With every stolen glance, the tension melted through the sands and got carried away to the ocean, with each melody you sang, the uneasiness was carried by the wind. You knew you were going to give in and yet the walls still stood at the height of your chest.

Game night was chaos. Of course it was. You should’ve known better when Jeongin grabbed the charades cards with a gleeful smirk, practically vibrating with excitement as he announced the teams. “And for the ultimate duo…” He paused for dramatic effect, his eyes landing squarely on you and Chan. “You two. Obviously.”

Your protests fell on deaf ears. Before you could argue, Hyunjin swooped in, all flair and drama. He clutched his chest like he was auditioning for a period drama, his voice rising in exaggerated passion. “This is fate! Look at their chemistry! The sparks! The magic!”

“Hyunjin, sit down,” you muttered, trying to suppress your growing embarrassment as the rest of the boys howled with laughter.

Chan, standing beside you, chuckled softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous.” The casual warmth in his tone sent a ripple of warmth through your chest, and despite your best efforts, your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, forgetting whatever reason you were uneasy around him before.

The game started, and the chaos only escalated. Chan leaned in close as the two of you deciphered the clues, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt natural but electric all the same. You tried to focus, but his laughter was like a song you couldn’t ignore, each note low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket.

Later that night, the bonfire lit up the shoreline, casting flickering shadows over the sand. The guys’ laughter and chatter filled the air, but your attention kept drifting to Chan, who seemed distracted—his gaze flickering to you every so often, like he was working up the courage to say something.

Eventually, he stood and gestured for you to follow. “Walk with me?”

You nodded, your heart thudding as you left the group behind. The waves lapped gently at your feet as you strolled along the water’s edge, the sound soothing and steady. But Chan’s presence next to you? It makes your heartbeat go crazy and you don’t even know if it’s from nervousness or something in the range of anger. It makes your hands and feet go cold without any particular reason. It was anything but calm. 

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “I just… didn’t know how.”

You stopped, turning to face him. “What is it?”

He ran a hand through his curls, looking down at his feet before meeting your eyes. “I know I’ve been distant. I’ve been trying to balance everything—the group, the music… everything. But in doing that, I’ve been ignoring the one thing that matters most to me.”

Your breath caught. Was he…?

“I’ve always known where my heart belongs,” he continued, his voice trembling just slightly. “It’s with you. And I just didn’t know how to say it without scaring you away. But I can’t… I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’m yours, if you’ll have me.”

For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words sinking in like waves crashing against the shore. His gaze at you as soft as the clouds in the skies, like it could sweep you off of your feet. Then, finally, you found your voice.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, your throat tightening with unshed tears.

It wasn’t an illusion, it’s not you assuming things that weren’t actually there. It wasn’t him randomly being fixated on you or anything negative of the sorts.

His eyes widened, panic flashing across his face. “What?”

You stepped closer, close enough to see the vulnerability in his expression. The proximity of it almost kills you from how much you longed for it. How you just wanted to jump into his arms and let him pull you in like you needed to be combined as one. “You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t wait for you. I’ve been yours all along, Chan. And I always will be.”

Relief flooded Chan’s features, followed by a smile so radiant it could’ve outshone the stars. He pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were something precious, something he’d never let go of again. His hand on the back of your neck, keeping your cheek flush against his shoulder, his other hand on your waist that keeps you steady as you stand on your toes. 

It doesn’t matter how long you have been distant. It just shows how love can be so strong and get even stronger when two people are far from each other. And the fact that you came back in each other’s embrace proves that your love for each other was as true as you thought it was. Yours and his faith didn’t fail, but you did let fear hold you back.  

The next day, the two of you strolled along the beach hand in hand, the world slowly waking around you. Chan’s phone played I’m Yours softly, and before you could protest, he spun you around, pulling you into a slow, lazy dance.

“Chan,” you laughed, glancing around nervously, your hands secured your own balance as you held on to his biceps. “What if the others see?”

“Let them,” he said simply, his eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. His strong arms wrapped around your waist as he nestled his nose on the crown of your head, his eyes closing for a brief moment to let the scent of your shampoo to be burned on his mind. “I’m not hiding this anymore. Not hiding us.”

As he pulled you closer—chest to chest, your heart swelled, the tip of your noses brushing against each other. But then a distant voice shouted, “Ayo, Chan, save some of that sweetness for later!” followed by a chorus of howling and teasing laughs.

“Get a room, you two!” Felix shouted from a few yards away, his eyes squinting from the glaring sun and was followed by Hyunjin's dramatic, "Oh, the pain of witnessing such public displays of affection."

You looked over, your face turning a shade of red that could rival the sunset, and saw the other members standing in a small group, all grinning like idiots, giving you both thumbs-up. Changbin was hitting Seungmin as he squealed, Jisung shook Jeongin by his shoulder, and Minho squatted on the ground with the most endearing smile.

"Don’t mind them," Chan whispered with a playful smirk, noticing your embarrassment and making you turn your gaze to him again. "Just look at me." His voice was commanding but in a very gentle way that it would make you obey right away.

Jisung yelled from behind, “I’m not sure if I’m more jealous or grossed out!” He rested his hands on Minho’s shoulder and almost fell over when the older guy stumbled forward.

“See?” Chan said with a grin, “They’re jealous.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your face still flushed. “Maybe, but they’re definitely loud.”

“I’m sure they’ll get over it,” Chan teased, his arms tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

You laughed, feeling a lightness spread through you. Chan spun you again, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the music and the sound of the waves.

And then, with that familiar spark in his eyes, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The teasing from the others faded into the background, but the warmth from their playful energy lingered.

"This is our fate," he whispered. “I’m yours… as you are mine.”

And as his lips found yours, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you, him, and the unshakable certainty that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

~~

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind."

2 Timothy 1:7

Don't be shy to give me suggestions guysss~ I hope you enjoyed "I'm Yours, Always."! God bless you all!!

[ldydeath]

Missed You A Lot | Kwon Ji-yong (G-Dragon)

Summary: Jiyong is planning his return to the stage, but he can’t do it without you. Despite not speaking in years you still jump at the chance to see him when asks for help.

Warnings: none

Authors Note: this is my very first fic. I’m obviously very nervous to post this but I love this man so much I had to write something. If I decide to write more and you want to be tagged, let me know!

It had been two and a half years since you’d seen Jiyong in person. You’d spoken to him in quick texts between the release of Still Life and Seunghyun's withdrawal from the band, but with no real BigBang plans in progress you’d started focusing on new projects with other groups. You told yourself it was for the best to pull yourself away from him. Feelings had started to turn romantic and you couldn’t have that. You were friends and colleagues.

Which is why you’d been so shocked when he’d texted you two days prior, asking you to come help with his MAMA performance. You knew you couldn’t say no to him, no matter how much time had passed. And that’s how you found yourself in front of the studio the boys were rehearsing in, convincing yourself to go in.

“Get it together, it’s just Jiyong” you mumbled to yourself. He didn’t know you had developed feelings. There was no reason for this to be awkward. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open. Thankfully, the music was pumping and the guys were too focused on the steps to notice you enter.

Strolling over to where the rest of the team was standing you heard your name and turned to see Daesung waving at you. A smile spread across your lips as you waved back. Your eyes flickered over to Jiyong and you sucked in a breath. Somehow even with his head covered in a cap and a scarf covering half his face he was still the most attractive man in the room. His eyes locked with yours causing him to stumble. “That’s enough for today!” He called, the music coming to a stop.

Suddenly he was standing in front of you. “Hi” he smirked, fidgeting with his hands, unsure of what to do next. In a previous life he would’ve pulled you in for a hug, you two had always been close friends. You picked up on the hesitation and offered him a small smile back.

“Thanks for coming, I wasn’t sure if you would.” His eyes studied your face and you nodded. “Honestly? Neither was I.” You both couldn’t help but laugh at your honesty and deciding to be brave, you pulled him in for a hug. His arms wrapped tightly around you,his chin resting on top of your head. You could feel your heart beating faster, hoping that he couldn’t hear it.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed. Big day tomorrow, yeah? He nodded at your suggestion, pulling away from the hug and laced his fingers with yours. Jiyong had always been a physical touch type of friend, always needing someone to hold onto and you tried to convince yourself that was all this was.

Grabbing his stuff he led you out of the studio and to the awaiting car. The drive was silent, your hands still locked together. You spent most of the ride keeping your breathing calm. The car stopped at the hotel and you climbed out of the car. You, of course, had been given the suite next to him. “I’ll see you in the morning.” You smiled at him before heading into your room.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when your phone buzzed. “Can you come over?” Your eyes skimmed his words and sighed. Jiyong didn’t ask for company often, he’s always been the type to lock himself away before and after a show. If he didn’t want to be alone, you weren’t going to make him sit there by himself. Sliding your feet into the pair of hotel slippers you made your way to the door connecting your rooms and knocked.

You barely had your arm away from the door when it swung open and his arms were around you, engulfing you in a tight hug. “I’ve missed.. I can’t.” He paused, pulling away from the hug to look at you. You could feel the desperation in his eyes. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what? The show?” He shook his head, his hands going to scratch his pink hair. He was looking at you, a sad smile on his face. You reached up to grab his hand, stopping his excessive need to mess with his hair. “Jiyong, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

He shook his head before his lips suddenly came crashing down on yours. You let out a surprised gasp before returning the kiss. Your hand slid from his head to his face, pulling him closer as his arms held you tightly in place. “I’ve wanted this for so long” Jiyong confessed as he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too.” You grinned up at him. He pulled back, his signature toothy grin on his face. “Don’t disappear on me again.” He pleaded. His body finally relaxed now that he had you back with him. “I won’t.” You promised as you closed the door connecting the room, deciding the only place you needed to be was with him.

[ssscatola]

task force 141 headcanons because I have free will

soap wears nothing but adidas slides when he's on leave. he's sick and tired of getting blisters from his military boots that he refuses to wear any other shoe when he's back in scotland

ghost's favorite season is spring. he loves hearing birds chirping and singing (would never admit this out loud) and enjoys hiking when the weather is just right.

gaz will cook a mean roast and is a snob about what herbs and spices go with what meat and vegetables. (this goes for soap as well bc i headcanon he was raised on a farm)

price is so fucking tired all the time but hides it really well. he'll fall asleep standing up in a heli without a problem

speaking of price, he's a loud ass cougher and sneezer and the rest of the force mimic and tease him about it

ghost has every member of the force's phone number. Price is saved in his contacts as 'Captain Price'. Gaz is 'Kyle Garrick'. Soap is just /insert scottish phone number/ and he refuses to change it just to piss off Johnny

to continue that adidas slides thought for soap, i like to think he's dripped out in any sportswear brand. DEFINITELY has a Napapijri jacket and at least three nike puffer jackets. every item of clothing for the gym is either nike or under armour and every running shoe he has is by asics

Gaz has five colognes he rotates. Soap has three (used to have four but lost one??? where the fuck is it?). Price has one that he's been rebuying for the past fifteen years. Ghost also has one (stole the best-smelling one from Johnny)

Gaz really likes board games while Ghost enjoys card games

Price knows some russian and soap is learning spanish

Ghost grew up with nothing and is now insatiable. doesn't spend that much on decorating his apartment or clothes but he sees a weighted or heated blanket on amazon with raving reviews? doesn't even check the price; it's in his cart. A new mattress made out of memory foam for his shitty back? added to cart. He sees a commercial for a 70-inch flat-screen tv? he needs it to watch soccer in 16k 240fps and 480p re-run episodes from youtube of 'how it's made' when johnny visits him.

price types with one finger (sorry to this man)

ghost rarely types out a response to a text. or if he does respond, it's just a thumbs-up emoji

soap gets down NASTY to 2000's and 2010's music. Like girl this man is breaking his neck and back and ankles on the dancefloor after three-four drinks and nobody can stop him

continuing for soap, he once got wasted and borrowed a cigarette from someone at a club and turned into a hired assassin for the night. the guy who gave him the cigarette got jumped and soap dislocated the attacker's jaw with one punch

gaz has every allergy under the sun while ghost gets the flu every five years or so

ghost has a sharp left canine and johnny nearly flatlines when he sees it

price has freckles on his biceps and shoulders

ghost notices soap is always chewing gum. they make stops during missions so the sergeant can buy (more like swipe) a pack. always the same brand, always the same flavor, and he always offers a piece to ghost. for his birthday, ghost gifts him two mega packs (that's like 400 pieces?) of his preferred gum and soap's heart swells in his chest

these are all over the place but i'm writing a ghoap fic and my motivation is dwindling so i just had to write this :')

if anyone wants a part 2 let me know bc this was a lot of fun to write!